LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


A  FORTUNE  HUNTER: 


OR, 


THE  OLD  STONE  CORRAL. 


<iale    of   tl^e   gaoha    Fe   Seail. 


BY 

JOHN  DUNLOE  CARTERET. 


CINCINNATI : 
PRINTED  KOR  THE  AUTHOR. 

1888. 

LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHTED,  1886. 


CONTKNTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Nature's  Blank  Page— The  Old  Stone  Corral— The  Lost 
Treasure  of  Monteluma — Camp-fires — The  Warlow  and  More- 
land  Families— The  Camp  on  the  Cottonwood— A  Tale  of  the 
Camp-fire, PAGE  7 


CHAPTER  II. 

Colonel  Warlow 's  Story— Bruce  Walraven— The  Heiress 
of  Monteluma — The  Vale  of  Mexico — Bandits — The  Res 
cue— The  Web  of  Destiny, PAGE  19 

CHAPTER  III. 

Breakfast  on  the  Plains — Colonel  Warlow's  Story  Con 
tinued — Bruce  Walraven's  Creed — Blood-drenched  Malvern 
Hill— The  Dim  Crest  of  Orizaba— Roses  and  Thorns— The 
Wealth  of  Monteluma— A  Cask  of  Gold— The  Casket  of 
Gems— The  Overland  Journey— A  Dark  Tragedy,  .  PAGE  29 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Colonel  Warlow's  Story  Continued— Los  Angeles  — A 
Friend  in  Need — A  Storm  on  the  Pacific — Shipwreck — Under 
the  Waves, PAGE  48 

CHAPTER  V. 

Colonel  Warlow's  Story  Continued— Alone— The  Cast 
away — The  Golden  Gate  to  Home  Sweet  Home — Acapulco — 
Roger — The  Isthmus  of  Panama, PAGE  57 


4  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Colonel  Warlow's  Story  Continued— The  Tropical  Groves 
of  Cuba — The  Coffee  Plantation — A  Blooming  Christmas — 
The  Tomb  of  Columbus — The  Roses  and  Passion-flowers  of 
Cuba — The  Warm  Hearts  of  Home — Ah !  Such  a  Day  can 
never  come  Again  —  Snow-drifts,  Sleigh-bells,  and  Sweet 
hearts — Mary,  etc., PAGE  71 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Colonel  Warlow's  Story  Concluded— The  Wool-picking— 
The  Squire's  Harrow — Wedding  Bells — Profit  and  Loss — 
The  Spectre  of  the  Stone  Corral, PAGE  79 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Monotony  of  Frontier  Life— New  Homes— Voting 
Bonds  —  The  Grasshopper  Raid  —  Back  to  the  Land  of 
the  Mother-in-law — Grim  Famine's  Shadow — The  Flood — 
A  Strange  Weird  Sight, PAGE  87 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A    Raging    Torrent  — The    Crows'    Nest  — An    Aerial 
Family— "Kansis  oR  buST," PAGE  100 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  Picnic— A  Biled  Vest— A  Dark-eyed  Maid  with  her 
Sweet  Guitar— Mora  Estill— Fishing,  etc.,  but  Principally  the 
Latter— "We  have  met  before"— The  Gray  Spectre  — The 
Mystery-wrapped  Grave  of  the  Hill-top  —  Rough  as  a 
Farmer— Transmigration  of  Souls, PAGE  108 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  Western  Call— Mystery— The  Call  lengthens  into  a 
Western  Visit— Spring  Chicken  and  Mystery,  .   .  PAGE  126 


CONTENTS.  O 

CHAPTER  XII. 

False  Riches— A  Young  Fortune  Hunter— The  Santa 
Fe  Trail  —  Searching  for  the  Gold  of  Monteluma  — The 
Serpent's  Warning  Rattle  — The  Stare  of  Death— The  Gray 
Spectre, PAGE  144 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  Western  Wheat-field— A  Visit  to  Estill's  Ranch— A 
Skeleton  in  the  Estill  Closet  —  An  Art  Critic  who  was 
''Beef  to  the  Heel"— Very  Undairy-like— A  Trace  of  Mys 
tery,  PAGE  159 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Phantoms  of  the  Past— That  "  Unspeakable  "  Rob  War- 
low — The  Running-gears,  if  you  please — The  Clouds  thicken — 
A  Glimpse  of  the  Past, PAGE  179 

CHAPTER  XV. 

The  Mysterious  Trail— The  Secret  Cell— A  Voice  from 
the  Past— The  Journal  of  Ivarene, PAGE  194 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Web  of  Mystery— The  Gems  of  Monteluma  — A 
Scene  of  Bewildering  Beauty,  .  . PAGE  203 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  Red  Gold  of  Monteluma— My  Father's  Doubloons— 
The  Phantom— A  Million  of  Treasure, PAGE  211 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  Course  of  True  Love— The  Cattle-king's  Daughter- 
Flirtation  and  Practicing — "Your  Music  makes  me  Home 
sick  " — A  Dubious  Compliment — A  Western  View  of  Classic 
Music — Schubert's  Serenade,  in  which  Rob  has  the  "  Cheek  " 
to  assert  that  he  can  recognize  the  very  Bar  in  that  Master 
piece,  where  the  Old  Man  turns  the  Bull- dog  loose — A  Couple 


6  CONTENTS. 

of  Idiots— Where  Grace's  Fingers  itch  to  pull  Cliff's  Ears— 
A  Lover  whose  Lip  hangs  Very  Low — That  Contemptible 
Thing,  a  Fortune  Hunter, PAGE  220 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  Strange  Theory — Our  Bodies  may  be  tenanted  by  Souls 
that  have  lived  before — Farewell,  my  Native  Land — A  Glim 
mering  Circle  of  Phantom  Warriors— A  Haunted  Spot— The 
Crossing  of  the  Santa  Fe  and  Abilene  Trails — The  Picnic — 
A  Scene  that  was  too  Rich  for  my  Blood, PAGE  239 

CHAPTER  XX. 

My  Long-lost  Gold — A  Hero  who  dripped  at  the  Nose 
like  a  Hydrant — An  Embarrassment  of  Riches — The  Mirage — 
The  Valley  of  the  Smoky  Hill— The  Iron  Mound  and  Soldier's 
Cap— The  Mennonite  Colony— A  Gigantic  Land-sale— Eagle 
Beak— The  Wailing  Wolf  of  the  Hill-top— A  Strange  Creed— 
A  Stately  Mansion — The  Grave-lights  of  Antelope  Butte — A 
Comforting  and  Seductive  Theory— We  may  be  re-born  and 
live  again  to  enjoy  the  Happiness  lost  by  Death,  .  PAGE  259 

u 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  Skeletons  on  Antelope  Butte — The  Serene  Wedding 
Morn  at  the  Stone  Corral — We  Live  Again — Wedding  Fes 
tivities—The  End, PAGE  285 


A  FORTUNE  HUNTER: 

OR, 

OLD   STONK  CORRAL,. 


^Chapter  I. 

THE  sinking  sun  threw  its  amber  beams  over  the 
wide  valley,  rolling  hills,  and  the  dim  buttes, 
wreathed  in  the  blue  haze  of  distance  and  looming 
with  vague  outlines  in  the  wavering  shimmer  of  the 
evening  mirage. 

A  silvery  stream,  half  hidden  by  fringing  trees, 
wound  through  the  prairie  valley,  but  was  lost  to 
sight  where  a  lofty  butte  shouldered  boldly  down 
from  the  highland  on  the  south,  as  if  to  catch  a 
view  of  the  Eden-like  landscape  that  dreamed  be 
low,  while  far  away  to  the  north  a  line  of  galloping 
hills  bounded  the  vision,  their  mantles  of  tender 
green  dappled  by  the  shadow  and  sunshine  of  the 
fleecy  clouds  that  floated  overhead.  On  the  south 
the  level  prairie  melted  away  into  the  limitless  dis 
tance,  clothed  in  the  tender  grasses  and  flowers  of 
early  spring-time,  while  on  every  hand  stretched 
away  the  horizon-bound  prairies  of  the  Western 
plains. 

A  wide  meadow-land,  made  perfect  by  the  hand 
of  nature,  but  lacking  that  soul  and  animation  which 

7 


8  NATURE'S  BLANK  PAGE. 

human  occupancy  alone  can  impart  to  any  scene. 
No  homes  are  visible;  nothing  but  the  blank  page 
of  nature,  waiting  to  be  written  over  with  the  his 
tories  of  the  people,  which,  something  whispers  to 
me,  will  soon  invade  this  peaceful  scene,  over  which 
now  broods  the  unnatural  calm  of  utter  solitude. 

Out  beyond  that  blue  line  of  hills,  which  flame 
up  in  the  east,  is  raging  the  fierce  conflict  which  we 
call  civilization  ;  but  the  shock  and  din,  the  roar  and 
turmoil  of  the  mighty  battle  die  fitfully  away  long 
before  reaching  the  quivering  line  of  that  dim  hori 
zon.  I  stand  alone  upon  the  crest  of  a  breeze- 
kissed  hill,  listening  to  the  moan  and  whisper  of  the 
wind  sighing  through  the  grasses  at  my  feet,  or  the 
notes  of  a  meadow  lark,  thrilling  and  sweet,  as  it 
flits  by. 

To  the  westward,  on  a  lofty  knoll,  are  visible 
the  broken  arches  and  ruined  walls  of  the  Old  Stone 
Corral;  rank  vines  now  veil  the  loop-holes  where 
once  had  flashed  forth  the  leaden  death-messenger 
for  many  a  savage  warrior  that  had  tried  to  storm 
the  impregnable  inclosure,  which  had  been  built  as 
a  place  of  refuge  for  travelers  on  the  Santa  Fe  Trail, 
that  here  crossed  the  Cottonwood  on  a  stony  ford. 
A  giant  elm,  centuries  old,  stood  amid  the  ruins, 
its  drooping  boughs  of  feathery  spray  weeping  like 
a  fountain  of  verdure  over  the  spring  that  welled 
out  from  among  its  roots,  then  went  gurgling  away, 
a  purling  brook,  to  join  the  narrow  stream  in  the 
valley. 

The  river  here  at  the  ruins  had  nearly  encir 
cled  the  hill  on  which  they  stood,  and  after  half 


THE   OLD  STONE   CORRAL.  9 

embracing  the  knoll  in  its  timber-fringed  course  had 
wound  away  down  the  valley,  but  where  the  groves 
grew  in  masses  of  darkest  green,  there  the  stream 
had  widened  to  miniature  lakelets  that  flashed  like 
silver  In  the  slanting  sunbeams. 

On  a  low  mound  near  by  I  see  a  great  stone, 
like  a  rude  monument,  and  drawing  near  I  can 
barely  decipher  this  dim  and  weather-worn  inscrip 
tion,  carved  on  the  red  sandstone  : 


tv  the 

OF 

FIFTY-THREE  VICTIMS  OF  THE  CHEYENNES, 

AUGUST  22,  1849. 

NAMES  ALL  UNKNOWN. 

Here  is  a  dim,  dark  tragedy,  buried  within  this 
grassy  knoll,  but  within  these  pages  all  the  mystery 
which  haunts  the  flower-bespangled  hillock  will 
be  cleared  away.  A  difficult  task  indeed  ;  but  with- 
6*ut  those  graves  my  story  would  never  have  been 
written. 

I  stand  silent  and  thoughtful,  gazing  out  over 
the  tranquil  landscape,  which  had  once  witnessed  a 
scene  of  revolting  horror  here  on  this  quiet  spot; 
but  all  is  peaceful  now,  the  only  sign  of  life  visible 
being  the  long  file  of  antelope  that  hurry  by  from 
the  north.  Halting  on  a  lofty  headland,  they  pause 
a  moment,  stretching  their  graceful  necks  to  gaze 
back  along  their  pathway,  then  with  loud  snorts 
wheeling  and  swiftly  fleeing  away. 

At  this  moment  the  distant  sound  of  hoofs  was 
heard,  becoming  momentarily  louder;  then  a  group 

2 


10  THE   OLD    STONE    CORRAL. 

of  riders  dash  up  on  their  sleek,  superb  horses,  and 
draw  rein  at  the  rude  monument. 

"  It  must  be  here,  Clifford,  at  this  low  mound," 
said  one  of  the  riders,  a  graceful  girl  of  seventeen, 
with  nut-brown  hair  and  blue  eyes. 

"  Yes,  Maud,  I  recognize  the  knoll  from  father's 
and  Uncle  Roger's  description.  It  was  uncle  who 
carved  this  inscription  upon  the  stone,  little  dream 
ing  then  that  we  should  all  come  here  a  quarter  of  a 
century  later  to  secure  a  new  home,"  replied  a  youth 
of  near  twenty  years;  handsome,  golden-haired,  and 
symmetrical,  with  eyes  of  pansy  blue,  and  a  look 
of  pride  and  good  birth  about  him  which  showed 
plain  through  the  dust  and  tan  of  a  long  journey. 

"  Ah,  dear  Bruce  and  Ivarene !  how  sad  to  end 
their  romance  with  such  a  tragedy  I"  said  Maud  tear 
fully,  as  Clifford  dismounted ;  then,  as  he  helped  her 
to  alight,  they  stood  for  a  moment  in  mute  sorrow 
while  deciphering  the  inscription  upon  the  stone. 

"  Maud,  it  is  hard  to  believe  that  the  heiress  of 
grand  old  Monteluma,  with  her  millions  of  gold  and 
gems  at  command,  who  wedded  noble  Bruce  in  the 
great  cathedral  before  the  dignitaries  and  ambassa 
dors  of  half  Christendom  with  a  pomp  and  splendor 
new  to  even  luxury-steeped  Mexico,  is  sleeping  with 
her  husband  in  the  silence  of  this  lonesome  grave," 
Clifford  said  in  a  tone  of  deep  sadness. 

a  Oh !  how  vivid  the  picture  returns,  of  the 
silken  and  lace-robed  heiress,  who  threw  back  the 
gilded  lattice  of  her  window,  and  with  pearls  glint 
ing,  and  rubies  burning  in  her  raven  hair,  smiled 
as  her  handsome  lover,  in  his  uniform  of  gray  and 


THE  LOST  TREASURE  OF  MONTELUMA.     11 

gold  lace,  swung  himself  up  to  her  window  by  the 
passion-vines  and  fuchsias,  that  rained  a  shower  of 
purple,  white,  and  rose  on  his  sunny  hair.  I  can 
almost  see  the  love-look  in  his  blue  eyes  yet,"  said 
Maud  with  a  flood  of  tears,  as  she  leaned  against  the 
rude  monument  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  I  have  sometimes  fancied  that  they  escaped ; 
for  there  was  no  one  left  but  father  to  inquire,  and 
you  know  how  long  he  was  covered  with  the  stones 
of  that  old  wall,  remaining  delirious  for  months 
after  Uncle  Roger  found  him,"  said  Clifford,  "and 
that  million  of  their  gold  and  gems,  with  father's 
store  of  gold,  I  have  often  fancied,  Maud,  was  hid 
den  near  here;  for  there  has  never  been  a  search 
made  since  the  terrible  massacre." 

"  That  looks  so  improbable,  Clifford.  If  the  sav 
ages  murdered  them  for  plunder,  as  they  certainly 
did,  then  it  is  idle  to  think  that  they  would  have  left 
anything  of  value  behind.  Even  the  jewels  would 
have  been  fought  for,  as  savages  are  very  fond  of 
glitter  and  splendor,"  Maud  replied. 

"  Yes,  that  very  disposition  of  theirs  to  wrangle 
over  their  booty  has  given  me  a  hope  that  the  leader 
might  have  buried  the  gold,  for  the  reason  that  it 
would  have  been  impossible  to  carry  away  a  ton  of 
coin  without  first  dividing  it.  I  shall  make  the 
search  at  any  rate,  though  it  does  look  like  a  forlorn 
hope,"  he  added  with  a  sigh. 

"  Miss  Warlow,  there  seems  to  have  been  a  great 
tragedy  enacted  here  in  the  past,"  said  a  young  man 
of  near  Clifford's  age,  who  had  been  silently  regard 
ing  them  from  a  distance,  in  company  with  a  flaxen- 


12  CAMP-FIRES. 

haired  girl,  younger  than  Maud,  who  still  sat  upon 
her  horse  by  his  side. 

"  Yes,  Mr.  Moreland,  and  it  nearly  concerns  us ; 
for  our  father,  here  on  this  spot,  once  lost  a  great 
fortune,  and  at  the  same  time  those  two  friends 
of  whom  we  have  been  speaking.  This  all  was  long 
before  Clifford  and  I  were  born ;  but  father  has  told 
us  so  often  of  the  tragedy  that  the  names  of  Bruce 
and  Ivarene  Walraven  are  dear  and  sacred  to  us  all/7 
Maud  replied. 

"  Oh,  Ralph !  I  wonder  if  Colonel  Warlow  would 
tell  us  the  particulars  of  that  terrible  affair?"  said 
the  younger  girl. 

"  It  would  be  doubly  interesting  here  upon  the 
closing  scene  of  the  tragedy,"  the  young  man  replied. 

"  Will  you  ask  your  father,  Maud,  to  tell  us  to 
night  ?"  the  young  girl  inquired  eagerly. 

"  Yes,  Grace :  it  will  help  to  while  away  our 
first  Sabbath  here,  which  will  be  a  lonesome  day 
to-morrow,"  Maud  made  answer  as  they  remounted 
and  rode  down  to  the  stream  to  water  their  horses. 

"What  a  lovely  camp-ground!"  exclaimed 
Grace.  "Shall  we  not  stop  here,  Ralph?" 

"Yes,  sister,  if  the  others  are  willing.  It  is 
not  only  a  fine  camping  ground,  but  it  is  more: 
This  is  a  grand  home-land,  or  will  be  when  we 
select  our  '  claims/  Monday.  I  never  before  have 
seen  a  more  beautiful  or  fertile  valley  than  this." 

So'on  a  long  line  of  white  covered  wagons  and 
a  comfortable  carriage  appeared,  coming  down  the 
Santa  Fe  trail,  which  wound  its  travel-worn  course 
over  the  hills  from  the  north-east;  and  where  soli- 


CAMP-FIRES.  13 

tude  had  reigned  but  an  hour  before  there  now  re 
echoed  the  sounds  of  a  busy  camp,  and  ruddy  fires 
leaped  and  sparkled,  about  which  female  forms  flit 
ted  to  and  fro,  preparing  their  evening  meal.  But 
while  all  was  bustle  and  animation  within  the  camp, 
a  solitary  figure  could  be  seen  standing  at  the  long 
grave,  bowed  in  an  attitude  of  silent  grief. 

As  he  walked  slowly  back  within  the  glare  of 
the  camp-fire,  it  was  apparent  that  he  was  a  man 
past  middle  life,  of  grave  and  dignified  appearance ; 
the  lines  of  care,  on  his  still  handsome  face,  were 
deepened  as  if  by  grief  as  he  seated  himself  by  a 
tree,  away  from  the  glare  of  the  light. 

As  he  sat  thus — lost  in  reverie — Maud  came 
softly  by,  and,  passing  her  hand  over  his  hair  in  a 
caressing  way,  said: — 

"  What  a  lovely  country  this  is !  I  am  charmed 
with  it  already." 

"Yes,  Maud,  my  daughter,  it  is  a  fertile  and 
picturesque  region;  but  it  will  be  hard  to  inure 
myself  to  living  on  this  spot,  for  it  is  haunted  by 
very  bitter  memories." 

"  Oh,  it  is  sad,  indeed,  to  think  of  the  fate  of 
Bruce  and  his  graceful  bride;  but  we  will  deck 
their  grave  with  flowers,  and  I  shall  never  cease 
to  grieve  for  them,"  she  said,  dropping  a  kiss 
on  her  father's  cheek,  then  hurrying  away  to  the 
camp-fire. 

He  was  roused  from  his  gloomy  reverie,  a  few 
minutes  later,  by  his  wife,  who  came  to  his  side, 
and,  as  her  hand  rested  fondly  on  his  shoulder,  she 
said,  in  a  sweet  voice  of  womanly  sympathy,  in 


14  CAMP-FIRES. 

which  could  be  traced  a  sub-tone  of  strength  and 
resolution : — 

"  George,  dear,  this  is  no  time  for  repining ; 
instead  we  should  feel  happy  and  grateful  that  we 
have  found  such  a  delightful  country  as  this  in 
which  to  select  our  future  home.  Oh,  this  valley 
is  more  beautiful  than  even  my  wildest  dreams  had 
ever  pictured.  I  had  felt  apprehensive,  husband, 
that  your  impressions  of  this  place  had  been  colored 
by  your  youthful  enthusiasm  of  twenty,  and  own 
that  I  had  made  ample  allowance  for  the  quarter  of 
a  century  which  has  passed  since  then ;  but  it  is  cer 
tainly  the  most  charming  spot  I  have  ever  beheld." 

"  My  dear,  brave  wife,"  he  replied  joyfully,  "you 
lift  a  heavy  burden  from  my  heart ;  we  will  select 
a  home  near  here  early  Monday  morning,  and  begin 
building  at  once.  I  shall  leave  the  selection  with 
you,  Mary,  however." 

"  Oh,  we  are  too  late,"  she  replied,  with  a  cheer 
ful  smile.  "  Robbie  has  found  the  spot  already ;  he 
has  just  returned  from  down  the  valley,  where  Scott 
Moreland  and  himself  had  driven  the  stock,  and 
they  report  having  found  a  perfect  paradise.  They 
are  both  boiling  over  with  enthusiasm,  and  are 
bareheaded,  having  left  their  hats  hanging  on  trees 
to  mark  the  location  of  their  respective  '  claims/ 
and  when  I  left  the  camp-fire  they  were  inveighing 
against  the  injustice  of  a  law  that  would  not  permit 
fifteen-year-old  boys  to  take  a  ' homestead/" 

In  a  more  cheerful  mood  the  couple  now  sought 
the  camp-fire,  which  was  surrounded  by  more  than 
a  dozen  persons  of  both  sexes,  all  animated  and 


THE   WAELOW   AND   MORELAND   FAMILIES.     15 

happy  over  the  termination  of  their  long  and  toil 
some  journey. 

The  two  who  have  just  entered  the  circle  are 
Colonel  Warlow  and  his  wife,  while  the  handsome 
youth  of  fifteen,  with  hazel  eyes  and  auburn  hair, 
which  has  a  faint  tinge  of  red,  that  accounts  for  the 
reputation  he  has  earned  within  the  Warlow  circle, 
is  Robbie,  their  youngest ;  while  that  golden-haired 
young  Adonis,  who,  in  a  fit  of  grave  abstraction, 
sits  leaning  against  a  tree,  his  white  and  tapering 
hands  clasped  about  his  knee,  the  firelight  glimmer 
ing  over  a  small  and  well-shaped  boot  resting  on 
the  round  of  his  chair,  is  their  oldest  son,  Clifford, 
whom  we  have  met  before ;  while  Maud,  their  only 
daughter,  is  easily  recognized  as  she  flits  about, 
busy  and  graceful. 

Next  we  see  the  family  of  Squire  Moreland, 
from  the  valley  of  the  Merrimac — the  squire  him 
self  being  a  representative  Puritan,  plain  and  grave ; 
his  wife,  a  type  of  the  live  and  thorough-going  New 
England  woman,  deeply  imbued  with  the  "thing 
ness  of  is//  able  to  discuss  apples  or  algebra,  beans 
or  baptism,  or  in  fact  any  subject  down  to  zymol- 
ogy.  Then  Ralph,  principally  to  be  recommended 
for  being  "  general  good  fellow. "  Next  in  their 
family  is  Scott,  quiet  and  grave,  addressed  by  Rob 
Warlow  as  the  "Young  Squire;"  and  their  only 
daughter,  Grace,  in  whose  make-up  there  is  more 
than  a  faint  spice  of  the  tomboy. 

Colonel  Warlow's  family  had  left  their  old  Mis 
souri  home,  the  tobacco  and  hemp  plantation  on 
which  the  children  had  all  been  bom,  and,  having 


16  THE   CAMP   ON   THE   COTTON  WOOD. 

met  the  Morelands  on  their  rout,  bound  for  that 
indefinite  region  aout  West,"  they  had  journeyed 
on  together  to  this  spot,  attracted  by  Colonel  War- 
low's  remembrance  of  its  great  beauty  and  natural 
fertility,  which  had  deeply  impressed  him  when  he 
was  here  a  quarter  of  a  century  before. 

Learning,  at  Council  Grove,  that  the  valley  was 
open  to  homestead  entry,  they  had  hastened  on, 
miles  ahead  of  other  settlements,  to  locate  here  on 
a  spot  that  was  beyond  the  utmost  limit  of  civil 
ization. 

Soon  the  hungry  travelers  were  seated  at  the 
cloth  that  was  spread  on  the  downy  buffalo-grass, 
and  were  partaking  of  the  broiled  quail  and  ante 
lope  steak,  the  appetizing  odors  of  which  now  per 
vaded  the  whole  camp;  but  as  the  company  ranged 
themselves  about  the  tempting  repast,  Maud  and 
Grace  retired  to  a  seat  by  the  fire,  declaring  as  they 
did  so,  that  they  would  not  sacrifice  their  precious 
lives  by  sitting  at  a  table  with  thirteen  other  sinners. 

"Give  us  a  song,  then,"  cried  some  one  from 
the  table,  at  which  Grace  sprang  up  and  brought 
Maud's  guitar  from  the  carriage,  and  soon  the  sweet 
strains, 

"Oft  in  the  stilly  night, 

Ere  slumber's  chains  have  bound  me, 
Fond  memory  brings  the  light 
Of  other  days  around  me," 

re-echoed  through  the  tranquil  valley.  As  Maud's 
tender  soprano  -mingled  with  the  luscious  alto  of 
Grace's  voice  the  listeners  almost  forgot  the  tempt 
ing  feast  spread  before  them,  and  cries  of  "Bravo!" 


THE   CAMP   ON   THE   COTTON  WOOD.  17 

"Encore!"  etc.,  greeted  the  close  of  the  pathetic 
song,  which  was  wholly  lost,  as  to  its  sentiment, 
upon  the  younger  members  of  the  company. 

"Pass  the  hat,"  cried  Bob,  whereupon  Grace 
handed  her  sunshade  around  among  the  laughing 
group,  but  after  inspecting  the  collection,  she  said 
with  an  air  of  contempt : — 

"A  wish-bone  and  five  bread-crusts!  Why,  a 
prima  donna  would  starve  on  such  a  meagre  salary. 
I  Ve  a  notion  to  play  Herodias's  daughter  and 
dance  off  your  heads ;"  and  when  Maud  struck  up  a 
lively  fandango,  she  shook  her  curls  in  a  threaten 
ing  manner,  and  then  whirled  off  into  an  amazing 
waltz. 

Jeers  and  hoots  from  the  boys  resounded  at  her 
last  pas  seul,  and  Clifford's  voice  was  heard  in  the 
gay  tumult  saying :  "  Mademoiselle  dis  Grace  must 
have  learned  her  step  at  an  Irish  wake. 

"  Let  us  no  longer  serve  an  ungrateful  public," 
said  Maud,  as  they  sat  down  to  the  table,  where 
their  gayety  chased  away  all  traces  of  care  or 
sorrow.  When  the  meal  was  finished,  Maud  and 
Grace  begged  Colonel  Warlow  to  relate  his  early 
history.  Their  request  was  eagerly  seconded  by 
the  other  members  of  the  company,  who  were  anx 
ious  to  learn  the  particulars  of  that  tragedy,  hinted 
at  by  the  inscription  on  the  mound,  and  how  he 
came  to  be  connected  with  the  actors  in  that  terri 
ble  drama,  and  to  lose  a  great  fortune  on  that  spot 
so  long  ago.  Then  the  colonel,  after  sitting  for  a 
few  moments  wrapped  in  serious  thought,  replied 
that  it  was  a  long  story,  and  would  require  more 


18  THE  CAMP  ON  THE  COTTON  WOOD. 

than  one  evening  to  relate  all  the  particulars  of  that 
great  tragedy,  that  would  always  be  fresh  in  his 
memory  as  long  as  life  endured. 

The  company  reminded  him  that  it  would  be 
rather  lonesome  on  their  first  Sabbath,  and  entreated 
him  so  eagerly  that  at  length  he  consented ;  then,  as 
the  firelight  leaped  and  sparkled,  and  the  beams  of 
the  rising  moon  silvered  the  waters  of  the  stream, 
moaning  and  fretting  over  the  stony  ford,  they  all 
gathered  about  the  colonel,  still  and  expectant. 
The  quavering  scream  of  a  lone  wolf  died  out  on 
the  hills  in  a  plaintive  wail;  then  only  the  faint 
whisper  of  the  wind  sighing  though  the  willows  was 
heard,  and  the  colonel  said  : — 


BRUCE   WALRAVEN.  19 


Chapter  II. 

COLONEL,  \VA.:RLOW'S  STORY. 

"  TT  7 HEN  a  boy  of  twenty  I  joined  the  army  that 
V\  soon  invaded  Mexico,  and  carried  victory 
with  its  banners  into  the  Aztec  capital — the  world- 
renowned  halls  of  the  Montezumas. 

"It  was  before  Vera  Cruz — when  our  ranks 
were  swept  by  the  iron  hail,  rained  upon  our  storm 
ing  columns  by  scores  of  cannon  from  San  Juan  de 
Ulloa — that  I  first  saw  Bruce  Walraven,  whom  I 
was  thenceforth  to  regard  as  a  brother. 

"An  exploding  shell  had  killed  my  horse,  which 
had  fallen  upon  me  in  such  a  way  that  made  it  im 
possible  for  me  to  rise  without  assistance ;  and  while 
I  was  yet  vainly  struggling  to  extricate  myself  from 
the  dangerous  position,  a  squadron  of  cavalry  rushed 
by,  charging  a  company  of  Mexican  infantry  in 
trenched  behind  a  light  breastwork  of  sand-bags.  I 
held  up  my  hand  with  an  imploring  gesture — a 
human  voice  was  lost  in  the  wild  thunder  and  roar 
of  artillery — and  the  leader  of  the  cavalry  saw  my 
sad  plight.  He  wavered  a  moment  as  though  strug 
gling  with  discipline;  but  the  sight  of  a  fellow- 
soldier  in  distress  seemed  to  outweigh  all  else,  even 
the  pride  of  leading  his  men,  for  he  dashed  to  my 
side  and  helped  me  to  rise ;  then,  as  a  riderless 
horse  galloped  by,  he  caught  its  dangling  rein,  and 


20  BRUCE   WALRAVEN. 

by  his  help,  in  a  moment  more  I  was  again  in  tKe 
saddle. 

"By  rapid  riding  we  soon  overtook  the  com 
mand,  and  were  greeted  by  a  ringing  cheer  from 
the  soldiers,  who  quickly  showed  their  appreciation 
of  his  humanity.  Later  in  the  war  I  would  not 
have  been  so  fortunate ;  but  we  were  new,  as  yet,  to 
scenes  of  bloodshed  and  carnage,  which  accounted 
for  the  laxity  of  discipline,  but  evidence  of  hu 
manity,  shown  in  this  incident. 

"After  the  successful  storming  of  the  enemy's 
slight  earthworks,  which,  with  their  usual  lack  of 
military  sience,  had  been  but  half  manned  and  illy 
constructed,  I  had  a  long  talk  with  young  Lieu 
tenant  Walraven,  and  in  a  short  time  I  had  man 
aged  to  be  exchanged  into  his,  company;  and  we 
soon  became  inseparable  companions,  sharing  the 
same  blanket  at  night  and  rude  fare  during  the  day, 
or  riding  side  by  side  through  the  battles  of  that 
glorious  "campaign,  and  finally  reaching  the  valley 
of  Mexico  safely. 

"  Here,  while  engaged  in  a  slight  skirmish  with 
the  enemy,  Walraven  was  wounded  in  the  arm,  and 
was  immediately  conveyed  to  the  old  hacienda  of 
Monteluma,  near  by.  At  his  urgent  request  I  was 
detailed  to  stay  with  him  as  a  guard.  In  the  courts 
of  that  princely  villa  he  rapidly  convalesced;  and 
one  day,  while  seated  by  the  great  fountain,  where 
myrtle  and  jasmine,  oleander  and  roses,  mingled 
their  fragrance,  he  saw  two  beautiful  Spanish  ladies 
loitering  near,  and  being  concealed  by  the  luxuriant 


THE   HEIRESS  OF   MONTELUMA.  21 

foliage  himself,  he  could  see  and  hear  all  that  passed 
without  being  discovered. 

"He  always  afterward  declared  to  me  that  at 
first  he  had  no  intention  of  playing  the  eaves 
dropper;  but  when  he  learned  from  their  talk  that 
it  was  himself  they  were  discussing,  then  the  temp 
tation  became  too  great  to  resist,  so  he  sat  very  still 
while  the  following  dialogue  took  place,  and  which, 
with  his  usual  boyish  frankness,  he  related  to  me 
an  hour  later.  This  was  in  Spanish;  but  Bruce 
was  now  quite  proficient  in  that  language,  and 
readily  understood  all  that  was  said : — 

" '  But,  Ivarene,  my  dear,  it  does  not  become 
Don  Rozarro's  daughter  and  heiress — last,  alas !  of 
the  proud  line  of  Monteluma — to  become  infatuated 
with  the  blue  eyes  and  golden  hair  of  this  wounded 
soldier;  and  if  he  is  as  handsome  as  a  Norse  king, 
to  which  you  so  foolishly  compare  him,  he  still  is 
no  less  our  country's*  enemy/  said  the  elder  lady, 
who  seemed  to  be  a  duenna,  whose  sole  care  con 
sisted  in  keeping  the  younger  and  more  beautiful 
lady  hidden  from  the  eyes  of  her  unwelcome  guests, 
but  with  what  success  you  may  readily  perceive. 

" '  But,  Labella,  cousin  dear,  he  is  alone,  wounded 
and  ill  in  a  foreign  land — no  mother,  sister,  or 
sweetheart  near  to  soothe  his  long  days  of  pain !  (I 
wonder  if  he  has  a  sweetheart  in  that  cold  North 
land  !)  And  then,  Labella,  does  not  the  good  Book 
command  us  to  do  good  to  those  who  hate  us,  and 
to  love  our  enemies?'  she  replied  with  a  mischiev 
ous  smile. 


22  THE   VALE   OP   MEXICO. 

" '  Oh,  the  command,  iny  darling,  does  not  apply 
to  every  sunny-haired  trooper  who  invades  our 
country — ' 

" '  No — no ;  not  every  one,  true  I'  retorted  Iva- 
rene,  archly,  to  which  the  duenna  quickly  replied : — 

" '  I  fear,  Ivarene,  that  your  English  education, 
and  your  much  reading  of  those  Northern  books, 
have  turned  your  head/ 

"Here  the  ladies  passed  on  through  a  latticed 
arcade,  and  their  voices  were  lost  in  the  distance; 
but  my  friend  had  seen  and  heard  enough  to  lose 
his  heart  completely,  and  in  the  evening,  as  we 
sat  on  the  balcony  without,  he  was  so  quiet  and 
thoughtful  that  I  began  to  realize  the  fact  that  he 
was  deeply  entangled  in  the  messes  of  love  at 
first  sight. 

"  Leaving  him  to  his  reflections,  I  walked  to  the 
edge  of  the  balcony  to  gaze  out  over  the  matchless 
landscape  which  the  lofty  msfnsion  commanded. 

"  The  tropic  moon  poured  a  flood  of  silvery  ra 
diance  over  the  Vale  of  Mexico,  while  low  down  on 
the  horizon  burned  the  fiery  Southern  Cross.  The 
bubbling  domes  of  the  great  capital  seemed  to  float 
upon  the  lakes  which  environ  its  walls,  and  her 
myriad  lights  twinkled  and  flashed  back  from  their 
waters  like  stars  on  a  frosty  night. 

"  Old  Chapultepec,  with  its  castellated  walls, 
towered  out  on  the  lofty  headland ;  and  the  dark 
forests  of  cypress,  that  had  witnessed  the  tragedies 
and  pageants  of  Aztec  splendor  for  a  thousand 
years  past,  clothed  the  base  of  the  hill  in  a  sombre 
mantle,  peopled  by  the  spectres,  I  thought,  of  long 


THE   VALE   OF   MEXICO.  23 

dead  princes  and  Montezumas  that  in  the  dim  past 
had  lived  their  lives  of  inconceivable  luxury  in 
those  ancient  groves. 

"Over  all  loomed  the  old  volcanoes,  white  and 
ghostly,  with  their  mantles  of  eternal  snow  and 
hearts  of  hidden  fire.  Shrouded  in  mystery,  they 
seemed  a  fit  emblem  of  the  Aztec  past,  whose  buried 
histories  still  haunt  this  ancient  land. 

"  Near  by,  at  the  foot  of  the  lofty  terrace,  the 
groves  of  olive  and  orange  were  sombre  in  shade. 
In  the  soft  wind  the  myrtle  rustled  faintly,  and  on 
the  roses  at  our  feet  the  dew-drops  glinted  in  fitful 
splendor. 

"  In  an  angle  of  the  old  wall,  where  the  murky 
shadows  were  deepest,  the  glow-worms  burned  in  the 
damp  grass,  and  the  fire-flies  glimmered  incessantly. 
There  I  half  fancied  that  I  could  see  strange  forms 
hovering;  and  when  a  figure  flitted  out  into  the 
moonlight,  then  was  quickly  lost  again  in  the  black 
shade  of  an  aloe,  I  was  startled  for  a  moment ;  but 
concluding  it  was  one  of  the  peons  belonging  to  the 
estate,  I  turned  my  eyes  to  again  feast  on  the  glo 
rious  view. 

•  "  There  were  numberless  fountains  pouring 
down  their  sheen  of  waters,  that,  after  flashing  a 
moment  in  the  moonlight,  rippled  away  in  rivulets, 
which  gurgled  and  sang  as  they  leaped  over  the  ter 
races  in  mimic  cascades,  where  they  joined  the. 
waters  of  the  fairy-like  lakes  that  slumbered  in  the 
grounds  below.  These  tranquil  sheets  of  water 
were  the  reservoirs  which  served  to  irrigate  the  vast 
estate,  and  were  decked  with  floating  gardens,  on 


24  BANDITS. 

which  were  gilded  arbors  or  lattices  of  white,  with 
beds  of  bright-hued  tropic  flowers. 

"  On  every  hand  lay  league  upon  league  of  land, 
all  owned  by  the  young  mistress  of  Monteluma.  The 
long  avenue  of  cypress  only  ending  close  to  the 
walls  of  the  capital,  the  villages  of  peons,  the  pas 
turages  where  the  numerous  flocks  grazed,  groves 
of  orange  and  lemon,  and  the  fields  of  wheat, — all 
these  I  knew  were  the  undisputed  estate  of  our 
hostess,  of  whom  Bruce  was  now  dreaming. 

"  I  was  aroused  from  my  reverie  by  an  excla 
mation  from  my  companion,  who  had  now  sprung 
up  excitedly  and  was  pointing  down  toward  the  en 
trance,  while  he  grasped  the  pistols  that  hung  in  his 
belt — weapons  that  were  never  lost  sight  of  in  this 
turbulent  country.  As  I  looked  toward  the  spot 
where  he  was  pointing  I  could  see  the  long  line 
of  a  hundred  steps — which  led  up  to  the  only  en 
trance  to  the  hacienda — lined  and  thronging  with 
armed  men. 

"  In  a  moment  the  situation  flashed  upon  us  : 
they  were  banditti  or  marauders,  emboldened  by 
the  unprotected  state  of  the  rich  villa,  and  were  now 
attacking  the  great  iron-studded  door.  If  they 
effected  an  entrance,  I  shuddered  with  apprehension 
to  think  of  the  fate  of  its  inmates;  but  we  lost  no 
time  while  we  were  thus  speculating,  but  quickly 
barring  the  door  on  the  balcony  we  rushed  down  into 
the  court,  and  while  I  grasped  the  bell-rope  and  sent 
forth  a  wild  alarm  from  the  brazen  bell  that  hung 
in  the  lofty  tower,  Bruce  hurried  on  through  the 
long  hall  toward  the  door  of  entrance. 


BANDITS.  25 

"  As  he  was  fastening  the  chains  and  bars  across 
the  entrance  a  crowd  of  frightened  peons  came  flock 
ing  into  the  hall,  and  while  we  were  hastily  arming 
them  with  the  guns  that  hung  upon  the  wall  and 
directing  them  to  guard  the  upper  windows  and 
fcdoors  that  opened  out  upon  the  lofty  balconies,  the 
door  of  the  great  saloon  was  hurriedly  thrown  open, 
and  Senora  Labella  asked  in  a  trembling  voice  the 
reason  of  the  commotion. 

"  When  she  learned  that  the  bandits  were  at  the 
door  she  fled  back  into  the  room,  and  as  we  followed, 
assuring  her  of  our  protection,  we  saw  her  fly  to 
where  the  young  heiress  stood,  her  arm  yet  resting 
upon  the  gilded  harp  which  she  had  but  just  that 
moment  ceased  playing,  and  the  light  from  the  sil 
ver  chandelier  falling  softly  upon  her  raven  hair 
and  the  lustrous  white  silk  that  fell  in  graceful  folds 
about  her  slender  form. 

"  Whife  the  excited  duenna  clung  to  the  more 
youthful  lady,  and  gave  way  to  incoherent  cries  of 
fear  and  moans  of  distress,  we  begged  them  to 
retire  to  a  tower  of  great  strength,  and  we  would 
surely  repel  the  attack;  but  Ivarene  declared  she 
would  stay  and  help  defend  her  home — saying  she 
would  not  have  it  said  that  the  last  Rozarro  was  the 
first  to  flee  from  danger. 

"After  the  senora  had  been  given  over  to  the 
care  of  a  bevy  of  badly  frightened  maids,  Ivarene 
hurried  fearlessly  out  into  the  hall  and  showed  Bruce 
where  several  loop-holes  were  concealed  by  slides  of 
iron.  These  commanded  the  entrance,  and  while 
we  rained  a  galling  fire  upon  the  enemy,  she  stood 

3 


26  THE    RESCUE. 

in  an  angle  of  the  thick  wall  and  reloaded  the  guns 
for  us,  which  we  as  rapidly  discharged  again  with 
telling  effect.  The  blows  upon  the  door  soon  ceased, 
and  we  could  see  the  marauders  retreating  down  the 
steps;  then,  as  a  parting  salute  followed  them,  they 
could  be  heard  galloping  swiftly  away. 

"  When  all  was  still  again,  we  accompanied  the 
brave  young  heiress  back  to  the  saloon,  where  she 
thanked  us  earnestly  for  the  rescue  of  her  home 
from  the  hands  of  the  marauders.  Of  course,  we 
quickly  assured  her  that  the  honors  and  glory  of 
the  occasion  rested  in  her  bravery  and  resolution. 
When  she  gave  her  hand  to  my  handsome,  sunny- 
haired  friend,  I  think  something  stronger  than  ad 
miration  shone  in  his  deep-blue  eyes  as  he  gazed 
upon  the  beautiful  Creole  face,  now  suffused  with 
blushes  and  lit  by  eyes  of  midnight  blackness. 

"  The  senora  had  now  recovered  from  her  ag 
itation,  and  was  voluble  and  profuse  in  her  thanks 
and  compliments.  At  a  sign  from  her  the  servants 
brought  great  silver  trays,  loaded  with  cake  of 
white  and  gold,  with  decanters  of  ruby  wine,  glit 
tering  in  the  flasks  of  cut  glass  like  liquid  fire. 
For  an  hour  or  more  the  dark-eyed  young  heiress 
sang  songs  of  Spain  in  a  voice  of  cultured  melody, 
while  her  white  fingers  swept  the  gilded  harp,  that 
vibrated  in  tones  of  sweetest  harmony  under  her 
skillful  touch. 

As  a  compliment  to  us  she  also  sang  several 
Scotch  and  English  ballads,  and  we  were  pleas 
antly  surprised  to  learn  that  she  had  received  an 


THE   RESCUE.  27 

education  in  England,  and  spoke  our  own  tongue 
with  remarkable  fluency. 

"  From  that  night  we  were  accorded  all  the 
privileges  of  honored  guests  in  the  great  hacienda." 

Here  the  colonel  paused,  remarking  that  as  the 
hour  was  growing  late  his  hearers  would  excuse 
him,  which  they  promised  to  do  providing  he  would 
continue  his  narrative  on  the  morrow.  As  the 
party  arose  from  about  the  camp-fire,  Robbie 
said  he  felt  heroic  enough  to  eat  several  Mexicans, 
not  to  mention  such  relishes  as  wine,  cake,  and 
peons,  at  which  very  broad  hint  the  tea-kettle  was 
soon  humming  on  the  embers;  and  when  the  cups 
of  the  soothing  beverage  were  handed  around, 
Grace  passed  a  basket,  which,  if  not  filled  with 
such  luxuries  as  those  which  had  graced  the  Mex 
ican  saloon,  were  at  least  very  acceptable  to  our 
friends. 

Scott,  whose  attention  was  divided  between  a 
chicken-bone  and  reverie,  suddenly  inquired  if  they 
thought  there  would  ever  be  another  war  with  Mex 
ico.  As  the  party  broke  up  with  a  laugh  at  his  ex 
pense,  the  quiet  of  nature  once  more  reigned  over 
the  valley,  broken  only  by  the  hoarse  croak  of  the 
frogs  in  the  dark  pools  and  the  shrill  cry  of  the 
cicada  in  the  grass. 

The  moon  threw  a  pale,  silvery  light  upon  the 
row  of  white  tents,  where  our  friends  were  soon 
dreaming  of  the  new  homes  that  they  would  build 
in  this  tranquil  valley ;  yet  no  vision  of  the  strange 
events  which  fate  held  in  store  for  them  came  to 


28  THE   WEB   OF    DESTINY. 

prepare  them  for  the  life  of  trial  and  adventure 
which  they  were  now  entering  upon. 

One  day  more  of  quiet  rest,  then  would  begin  a 
life  new  and  strange  for  them  all.  They  had  left 
their  old  selves  forever  behind;  their  past  was  a 
blank;  new  faces  and  new  friends  awaited  them 
here  in  their  future  home,  which  had  never  been 
even  claimed  as  the  property  of  any  man  since  the 
dawn  of  creation. 

Yes,  fate  is  both  unkind  and  compassionate  in 
withholding  a  knowledge  of  the  blessings  and  trials 
that  await  them  here;  so  they  slumber  on,  while 
unseen  destiny  begins  to  weave  her  web,  checkered 
and  mysterious  as  the  veil  of  moonlight  that  wavers 
through  the  willows. 


BREAKFAST  ON  THE  PLAINS.  29 


Chapter  III. 

COLONEL  \VAFJ.LOW'S    STORY— CONTINUED. 

THE  morning  of  that  Sabbath  broke  calm  and 
serene.  A  warm  haze  brooded  over  the  valley 
or  danced  in  lines  of  quivering  heat  across  the 
green  prairies  of  the  upland,  and  the  dew  had  long 
since  ceased  to.  glitter  on  the  rank  blue-stem  grass 
when  our  friends  awoke. 

The  breakfast  which  followed  almost  caused 
them  to  forget  the  fact  that  they  were  out  upon 
the  borders  of  the  "Great  American  Desert/'  and 
they  might  have  fancied  that  they  were  once  more 
but  picnicking  under  the  shade  of  their  native 
groves;  for  it  was  a  meal  that  had  exhausted  the 
culinary  art  of  both  matrons.  Wild  mushrooms, 
stewed  in  sweet  cream,  deliciously  fragrant  and 
hinting  of  the  wild-wood  near  by,  delicate  brook- 
trout  from  the  stream,  mingled  their  aroma  with 
the  elder-bloom  fritters  which  Maud  was  preparing ; 
and  on  the  snowy  damask,  spread  on  the  grass,  Mrs. 
Moreland's  golden  honey-comb  vied  with  the  War- 
low  jelly  and  crimson  marmalade,  while  the  coffee 
would  make  one  dream  of  Araby  the  blest. 

An  hour  after  the  morning  meal  we  find  our 
friends  seated  under  the  shade  of  the  great  elm 
among  the  ruins,  the  sunlight  struggling  faintly 
through  the  verdant  canopy  and  weaving  a  golden 


30  LOVE   AND   ORANGE-FLOWERS. 

veil  over  the  ashen  buffalo-grass,  starred  by  daisies 
and  violets.  The  spring  welled  out  with  a  sleepy 
murmur,  and  overhead  an  oriole,  near  its  swinging 
nest,  caroled  forth  a  stream  of  bubbling  melody. 

"A  month  passed,"  continued  the  colonel,  "  and 
we  still  lingered  in  the  stately  mansion,  daily  and 
hourly  meeting  the  young  heiress,  who  was  always 
accompanied  by  her  matronly  kinswoman.  But  one 
morning,  as  Bruce  was  loitering  in  the  court,  he 
glanced  up  and  saw  the  smiling  face  of  Ivarene, 
framed  by  the  passion-flowers,  fuchsias,  and  jasmine 
which  festooned  the  walls  within  the  court  and 
wreathed  the  lattice  above  her  balcony. 

"With  an  impulse  which  he  could  not  resist 
our  young  hero  swung  himself  up  by  the  vines,  and 
stood,  with  his  sunny  hair  and  smiling  blue  eyes, 
within  the  balcony.  He  wore  the  uniform  of  a 
captain  of  cavalry — soft  gray,  with  cords  and  lace 
of  frosted  gilt  over  the  breast — top-boots,  embossed 
with  gold,  and  a  hat  half  concealed  by  the  drooping 
plumes. 

"  She  threw  back  Jhe  gilded  jalousies  which 
guarded  her  window,  and,  smiling  graciously,  held 
out  her  hand,  which  he  clasped  with  all  the  rapture 
of  an  infatuated  lover. 

"She  was  robed  in  soft,  rose-colored  India 
muslin,  embroidered  in  white  lilies,  and  over  her 
breast  and  arms  fell  a  cascade  of  lace,  caught  lightly 
over  her  raven  tresses,  in  that  graceful  manner 
which  the  ladies  of  Spanish  America  wear  the  man 
tilla;  gleaming  through  its  filmy  folds  could  be 
seen  the  rubies  which  burned  in  her  hair. 


LOVE   AND   ORANGE-FLOWERS.  31 

"  Within  that  flower-entwined  balcony  was  re- 
enacted  that  tender  scene — old  as  the  dawn  of  crea 
tion,  still  ever  new.  JEow  he  told  the  tale,  or  how 
she  answered,  I  can  not  say,  but  may  readily  sur 
mise  from  the  brilliant  wedding  which  followed  in 
the  old  cathedral  a  few  months  later. 

"Bruce  had  become  very  popular  with  the 
young  officers  of  our  army,  and  I  have  often  seen 
him  riding  about  the  city  with  McClellan,  and — " 

"What!  not  our  <  Little  Mac?'"  cried  Squire 
Moreland,  springing  to  his  feet,  transformed  into 
an  impetuous  soldier  by  the  magic  of  a  name,  and 
while  the  others  regarded  him  with  amazement,  as 
he  paced  back  and  forth  with  clenched  hands,  he 
continued  in  a  tone  of  repressed  vehemence:  "If 
there  is  one  name  that  would  cause  me  to  leap  from 
the  grave,  it  is  that  of  '  Little  Mac/  the  Giant  of 
Antietam ;  and,  as  there  is  a  God  above,  I  believe  it 
was  McClellan  who  led  us  to  victory  at  Gettysburg. 
Oh,  can  I  ever  forget  that  terrible  day  when  the 
host  of  Lee  beat  and  broke  in  thunder  over  the 
hills  like  the  ocean  on  a  rocky  shore,  drenching 
our  ranks  in  a  surf  of  blood — when  reckless  Long- 
street  charged  like  a  whirlwind  through  smoke  and 
flame,  while  our  columns  staggered  under  the  shock  ? 
The  scream  of  countless  shells  and  the  stunning 
belch  and  roar  of  a  thousand  cannon  mingled  with 
the  trample  of  the  Southern  cavalry  as  it  hurled  its 
squadrons  upon  us  like  the  throes  of  an  earthquake, 
their  storm  of  rebel  yells  rising  above  the  notes  of 
Dixie  and  all  the  din  of  conflict  with- the  roar  of  a 
hurricane.  Oh,  Heaven !  how  then  we  longed  for 


32  LOVE   AND   ORANGE-FLOWERS. 

one  hour  of  'Little  Mac!'  That  day  our  Nation's 
fate  trembled  in  the  balance;  a  few  more  shocks 
and  all  would  be  lost ;  then  this  fierce  army — another 
such  the  world  has  never  seen — would  sweep  over 
the  North  like  an  avalanche !  Every  moment  hur 
ried  myriads  into  eternity,  wringing  loving  hearts 
and  breaking  many  a  home  from  Maine  to  Texas. 
But  when  the  word,  like  an  electric  shock,  flashed 
along  our  hopeless  ranks,  ( Little  Mae  has  come,'  can 
I  ever,  ever,  forget  the  shout  of  delight  that  burst 
from  the  parched  lips  of  threescore  thousand  men  ? 
the  rapid  rush  of  marching  ranks  as  they  hurried 
to  death,  shouting,  '  Little  Mac,  Little  Mac !'  when 
squadrons  flashed  by  to  the  cannon's  mouth,  shak 
ing  the  earth  with  their  thunders  of  that  mighty 
name  ?  Oh  !  the  wild  delight  and  glory  of  that  hour, 
when  the  fierce  but  baffled  hosts  of  Lee  broke  and 
fled !  But  at  the  battle's  close  they  claimed  that  it 
was  only  a  ruse,  and  that  McClellan  was  not  there. 
Yet  I  shall  always  believe  he  did  lead  us  that  day ; 
but,  unwilling  to  impair  the  laurels  of  Meade,  he 
has  kept  silent  all  these  years — only  such  a  man  is 
capable  of  that  grand  heroism.  I  have  interrupted 
you,  Colonel.  Please  excuse  me,  and  proceed  with 
your  narrative." 

After  a  moment's  silence,  the  colonel  said : 
"  Bruce  Walraven  was  descended  from  a  noble 
English  family  that  had  settled  in  New  York  in 
the  earliest  colonial  days,  but  their  fortunes  had 
waned  until  himself  and  his  sword  were  all  that  re 
mained  of  that  once  powerful  house.  He  was  an 
orphan,  who  had  graduated  with  honor  at  West 


LOVE   AND   ORANGE-FLOWERS.  33 

Point  Military  Academy,  and  was  utterly  alone  in 
the  world,  with  no  one  to  love  but  Ivarene  and  my 
self,  yet  no  brothers  could  have  been  more  deeply 
attached  than  we  soon  became  to  each  other. 

"  I  have  never  yet  described  him  to  you,  from 
the  fact  that — that —  Well,  I  feel  a  strange  re 
luctance  to  say  that  Clifford,  here,  is  the  very  image 
of  that  friend  who  died  four  years  before  my  boy 
was  born;  but  as  I  look  at  my  son  now,  I  almost 
fancy  that  Bruce  is  with  me  again,  and  that  all  my 
manhood's  troubled  years  are  only  a  fitful  dream. 

"  Since  his  boyhood  I  have  noticed  Clifford's  re 
semblance  to  Bruce,  and  as  my  boy  grew  older  he 
seemed  to  almost  take  the  place  of  my  lost  friend, 
which  has  resulted,  you  perceive,  in  a  sort  of  com 
panionship  between  us  which  leads  strangers  to 
take  us  for  brothers,  instead  of  father  and  son.  But 
to  my  story  again. 

"The  wedding-day  dawned  fair  and  serene,  and 
at  noon  a  company  of  young  cadets  from  Chapul- 
tepec,  all  of  whom  were  sons  of  the  highest  Mexi 
can  aristocracy,  filed  out  on  the  avenue  of  cypresses 
that  led  to  Monteluma,  their  snow-white  horses 
trapped  with  gold  and  purple,  and  their  steel  hel 
mets  a  mass  of  tossing  plumes ;  their  high  top-boots 
of  glossy  black  were  embossed  with  gilt,  and  on  the 
breasts  of  their  white  tunics  the  Mexican  eagle 
flashed  in  silver,  as  two  and  two  they  galloped  out 
to  the  great  hacienda. 

"  An  hour  later  Ivarene  entered  her  low,  open 
carriage,  which  was  richly  gilded  and  drawn  by  four 
white  horses  that  were  almost  hidden  by  garlands 

4 


34  LOVE   AND   ORANGE-FLOWERS. 

of  bright-hued  flowers.  She  wore  a  robe  of  white 
satin,  while  a  tiara  and  necklace  of  pearls  glimmered 
through  the  filmy  veil  that  trailed  like  a  mist  about 
her  form.  Behind  her,  there  rode  in  separate  car 
riages,  each  drawn  by  two  white  horses,  her  seven 
bridesmaids,  who  were  likewise  dressed  in  white. 
Senora  Labella  sat  by  the  side  of  Ivarene,  and  a 
grand  dame  also  occupied  each  carriage  with  a  brides 
maid  ;  their  sumptuous  toilets  of  satin,  velvet,  and 
brocade  were  of  purple  and  cream-rose,  emerald 
and  lilac. 

"  As  this  brilliant  company  filed  out  on  the  ave 
nue,  four  cadets  riding  in  double  file  between  each 
carriage,  flowers  were  strewn  in  the  road  by  long 
lines  of  peon  children  dressed  in  white.  At  the 
city  gates  a  double  guard  of  Mexican  and  American 
soldiers,  riding  white  horses  and  gorgeous  with 
military  trappings,  escorted  them  through  the  city 
to  the  grand  plaza,  where  the  old  cathedral  was 
thronged  with  the  proud  and  great  of  two  nations, 
while  the  ministers  and  foreign  ambassadors  of 
nearly  all  of  Europe  and  the  Americas,  waited  in 
pomp  of  state  with  their  wives  and  daughters,  all 
attired  in  the  extreme  of  luxury.  I  shall  not  try 
to  depict  the  splendor  of  the  final  scene  when  the 
cardinal  in  his  robes  of  scarlet  pronounced  the  sol 
emn  service,  and  pale,  handsome  Bruce^  wearing 
his  uniform  of  a  colonel,  received  his  bride  from  the 
hand  of  Don  Hernando  Rozarro,  the  Spanish 
ambassador. 

"  Haughty  Santa  Anna  was  there,  and  General 
Taylor  looked  happily  on,  while  all  around  were 


LOVE   AND   OKANGE-FLOWERS.  35 

grouped  our  gallant  officers,  graceful  and  young, 
whose  names  now  thunder  down  the  galleries  of 
fame  linked  with  Antietam,  Shiloh,  and  blood- 
drenched  Malvern  Hill.  Grant  and  Lee,  those 
slumbering  lions,  that  in  after  years  were  to  shake 
the  continent  with  appalling  conflict,  now  stood  side 
by  side,  each  carrying  the  wedding  favor  of  their 
friend. 

"  A  scene  of  splendor  ensued  that  recalled  the 
old  pageants  of  the  Montezumas,  when  a  long  line 
of  gilded  coaches  and  prancing  white  horses  filed  out 
in  the  twilight,  along  the  avenue  returning  to  Mon- 
teluma.  The  sun  had  set,  but  a  parting  gleam  was 
yet  crimsoning  the  snow  on  the  volcano  of  Toluco, 
while  the  sombre  cypresses  were  aglow  with  the 
green  and  rosy  light  of  torches,  carried  by  the 
double  line  of  peons  in  their  ancient  Aztec  garb. 
Old  Monteluma  glimmered  like  a  jewel  from  ter 
race  to  turret  with  colored  lights,  while  out  upon 
the  broad  esplanades,  where  thousands  of  the  peons 
were  feasting,  the  fountains  flashed  white  and  misty, 
like  the  snow-storms  of  my  Northern  home. 

"  When  Ivarene,  leaning  on  Bruce's  arm,  walked 
up  the  long  flight  of  steps  to  the  doorway  of  her 
old  home,  the  marble  beneath  her  feet  was  hidden 
by  the  rose-leaves  strewn  by  peon  girls  in  white, 
while  her  train  was  borne  by  four  small  Indian 
pages  in  feather  costumes,  gorgeous  as  humming 
birds.  Within,  the  halls  were  blazing  with  light, 
and  garlanded  by  tropic  flowers.  Tables  were  loaded 
with  gold,  silver,  and  crystal;  wine  flowed  like 
water ;  while  the  viol  and  harp,  gay  dance  and  song, 


36  ROSES   AND   THORNS. 

caused  the  hours  to  speed  swiftly  by,  and  the  tired 
but  happy  revelers  only  sought  their  homes  when 
the  snowy  summit  of  Popocatapetl  was  flushed  with 
rose,  and  bars  of  pale  gold  flashed  out  from  behind 
the  dim  crest  of  Orizaba. 

"  After  a  brief  honey-moon,  which  was  spent  at 
La  Puebla,  Bruce  and  his  bride  returned  to  Mon- 
teluma,  and  so  urgent  was  the  invitation  which  they 
extended  for  me  to  make  my  home  with  them 
until  I  should  decide  to  return  northward,  that 
I  immediately  joined  them  in  their  princely  abode. 

"  My  friend  soon  discovered  that  his  rosy  path 
was  beset  thickly  with  thorns,  for  every  day  he  was 
made  aware  of  the  aversion  in  which  his  Mexican 
neighbors  held  him;  their  cold  neglect  cut  deeper 
than  their  swords.  So  it  was  with  growing  alarm 
that  his  wife  beheld  these  symptoms,  for  she  well 
knew  how  the  fine  speeches  and  grave  courtesy  of 
her  countrymen  often  covered  hearts  of  hate  and 
tiger-like  rage ;  and  when  she  saw  the  covert  hos 
tility  of  her  former  friends  she  became  apprehen 
sive,  indeed,  for  the  safety  of  her  husband. 

"  One  day  she  startled  us  by  proposing  that  we 
should  all  go  North  to  her  husband's  former  home 
on  the  Hudson,  and  she  then  proceeded  to  say  that 
she  had  grown  to  view  her  native  land  with  some 
thing  of  the  feelings  with  which  it  was  regarded 
abroad.  She  had  resided  in  England  several  years, 
and  now  longed  again  for  the  life  and  freedom  of 
the  Anglo-Saxons. 

"  Although  Bruce  was  overjoyed  at  the  prospect, 
he  still  said  he  would  not  insist  on  taking  her  from 


ROSES   AND   THORNS.  37 

her  native  land  and  kindred ;  but  when  she  said  that 
her  only  relative  living  now  was  Labella,  who  was 
soon  to  many  Herr  Yon  Brunn,  a  merchant  of  the 
capital,  and  that  she  had  determined  to  sell  Monte- 
luma  to  an  Englishman  for  seventy  thousand  doub 
loons,  or  over  a  million  dollars,  then  he  reluctantly 
consented  to  the  change,  only  stipulating  that  the 
immediate  park,  grounds,  and  mansion  should  be 
reserved,  so  that  if  she  grew  tired  of  her  Northern 
home  they  would  find  her  old  mansion  awaiting 
their  return. 

"Kissing  him  tenderly,  she  declared  he  was  a 
Eozarro  in  spirit,  if  not  in  name.  It  was  decided  to 
leave  the  villa  in  charge  of  Labella,  and  in  a  short 
time  a  sale  of  the  estate  was  consummated  for  the 
sum  of  fifty  thousand  doubloons,  or  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  gold — the  mansion  and 
park  being  reserved. 

"  Senora  Labella  was  dowered  by  Ivarene  with 
a  gift  of  several  thousand  doubloons  on  her  wed 
ding  Von  Brunn,  after  which  event  we  set  to  work 
earnestly  preparing  for  our  overland  journey  north 
ward.  A  long  train  of  wagons  were  loaded  with 
dry-goods  for  the  markets  of  Northern  Mexico. 
The  price  of  such  articles  there  had  been  enhanced 
enormously  by  the  war,  and  Von  Brunn  shrewdly 
advised  us  to  pursue  this  course.  When  Ivarene 
kindly  oifered  to  loan  me  money  to  invest  in  this 
manner,  I  gladly  accepted  fifty  thousand  dollars, 
with  which  I  bought  linen  and  cotton  goods  at  the 
port  of  Vera  Cruz,  which  was  then  crowded  by  the 
ships  of  all  nations. 


38  ROSES   AND   THORNS. 

"  I  might  be  pardoned  for  digressing  a  moment 
while  speaking  of  the  strange  belief  in  a  future 
state  which  Bruce  entertained.  There  was  a  vein  of 
seriousness  and  grave,  quiet  religion  running  through 
the  nature  of  my  friend,  and  often,  while  we  were 
stretched  on  our  blanket  with  no  canopy  but  the 
dewless  Mexican  sky,  studded  by  the  Southern 
Cross,  and  bespangled  by  constellations  that  were 
new  and  strange  to  our  eyes — often,  I  say,  he  would 
talk  of  that  weird  belief,  which  then  was  very  enig 
matical  to  me,  but  which  in  my  maturer  life  has 
recurred  with  a  sweet  solace  to  my  declining  years. 

"  Bruce  believed  that  the  soul  was  an  individual, 
invisible  as  air  and  imperishable  as  time  itself, 
and  that  the  spirit  was  a  progressive,  rational  being, 
which  could  never  leave  this  earth  until  the  great 
Judgment-day,  at  which  time  our  planet  would  be  as 
unfit  for  a  human  abode  as  the  moon  is  at  present. 

"  After  death,  which,  he  said,  was  only  a  wearing 
out  of  the  outer  garment  of  the  soul  or  spirit,  the 
animating  principle,  or  life,  would  still  inhabit  the 
earth,  invisible  to  human  eyes,  but  yet  an  intelli 
gent,  observing  being ;  subtile  as  air,  yet  powerful 
as  electricity.  Whenever  the  newly  released  soul 
chose  to  do  so,  it  could  take  on  a  new  form  by  being 
re-born.  He  thought  that  before  birth  we  were  pos 
sessed  of  a  life  akin  to  that  of  the  vegetable  king 
dom,  but  at  birth  a  spirit  that  had  lived  before 
took  possession  of  our  bodies,  and  used  us  as  a 
habitation  until  our  bodies  became  either  worn 
through  age,  or  distasteful  to  the  occupant — death 
ensuing  in  either  case. 


ROSES   AND   THORNS.  39 

"  His  highest  idea  of  heaven,  he  said,  would  be 
to  have  the  power  to  live  again,  and  again  meet 
those  friends  whom  he  had  loved  best  in  the  prior 
life,  guided  to  them  unerringly  by  the  mystic  ties 
of  love  and  affinity.  Memory  of  the  past  life,  he 
thought,  was  that  sense  which  we  call  instinct, 
conscience,  or  intuition,  being  only  a  feeble  glim 
mer,  as  it  were,  of  the  previous  state  in  which  we 
had  lived. 

"  I  remember  well,  the  night  before  the  battle 
of  Churubusco,  how  Bruce  and  I  talked  of  these 
things;  for  he  said,  as  we  sat  beneath  a  palm-tree, 
while  the  tropic  moon  flooded  the  earth  with  a 
dreamy  splendor,  that  we  were  to  fight  the  last 
great  battle  of  the  war  on  the  morrow — a  conflict 
in  which  one  or  both  of  us  might  perish — and  all 
that  reconciled  him  to  such  a  fate  was  the  belief 
that  we  should  live  again,  and  meet  each  other  in 
this  world,  which  was  the  only  heaven  we  were  yet 
fitted  for. 

"  I  would  not  have  you  entertain  the  thought 
for  one  instant  that  Bruce  was  skeptical  or  irre 
ligious.  On  the  contrary,  his  fearless  piety  was 
often  commented  upon;  for  I  have  seen  him  kneel 
on  the  bloody  fields  of  Cerro  Gordo  and  Contreras, 
and  thank  God  in  a  trembling  voice  for  his  gracious 
preservation  of  my  life  and  his  own,  while  the  rude 
soldiery  stood  by  with  mute  respect,  remembering  his 
reckless  daring  and  lion-like  bravery  in  the  hours  of 
deadliest  peril  to  which  human  life  can  be  exposed. 

"  No ;  his  creed  was  a  very  strange  one,  though 
one  that  is  old  as  history  itself;  he  appeared  to 


40  ROSES  AND  THORNS. 

differ  from  the  general  belief  only  in  his  definition 
of  heaven  and  its  location.  He  often  said  that  if  a 
man  retrograded  and  became  brutal  he  would  meet 
his  punishment  in  the  next  life,  for  his  brutal 
instincts  would  seek  their  affinity  after  death  and 
he  could  only  be  re-born  as  a  brute,  in  which  state 
he  would  remain  until  his  new  life  exhausted  the 
brutal  element  from  his  soul. 

"  I  fancy  he  imbibed  his  doctrines  from  his  father, 
who  had  been  an  officer  in  India.  It  might  have 
been  that  the  elder  Walraven  had  there  caught 
glimpses  of  a  belief  somewhat  akin  to  Buddhism. 
When  I  pressed  Bruce  for  his  proof  of  this  strange 
theory  he  referred  me  to  the  Bible — Matthew  xvi, 
13,  14:  'When  Jesus  came  to  Cesarea  Philippi,  he 
asked  his  disciples,  saying,  Whom  do  men  say  that 
I,  the  Son  of  man,  am  ?  And  they  said,  Some  say 
that  thou  art  John  the  Baptist;  some,  Elias;  and 
others,  Jeremias,  or  one  of  the  prophets/  All  of 
which  goes  to  prove  how  ancient  the  belief  really 
is ;  for  it  is  apparent  that  people  believed  Christ  to 
be  the  reincarnation  of  a  spirit  of  one  of  those  peo 
ple  who  had  been  dead  many  years. 

"Ivarene  soon  became  ^converted  to  Bruce's 
creed,  while  I  often  find  myself,  even  yet,  taking 
solace  in  this  strange  belief. 

"Early  in  the  spring  of  1848,  the  long  caravan 
started  northward,  and  when  we  arrived  at  Chi 
huahua,  a  ready  market  was  found  for  the  goods, 
after  disposing  of  which  I  found  that  I  had  more 
than  doubled  the  sum  invested ;  so  when  the  debt 
was  repaid  to  my  kind  benefactors,  with  the  addi- 


A    CASK   OF   GOLD.  41 

tion  of  a  liberal  interest  for  the  use  of  the  money, 
there  was  still  left  me,  as  clear  profit,  fifty  thousand 
dollars  in  gold. 

"  We  spent  the  winter  in  Santa  Fe,  but  early  the 
next  spring  resumed  our  journey,  I  having  in  the 
meantime  bought  a  few  wagon-loads  of  wool  to  take 
through  to  Independence,  Missouri,  which  was  then 
the  eastern  terminus  of  the  Santa  Fe  Trail ;  but  the 
money  which  I  had  saved  from  my  speculation 
remained  intact,  and  was  deposited  with  fifty  sacks 
of  doubloons  (which  were  the  property  of  Bruce 
and  Ivarene)  in  a  large  iron-bound  cask  of  cypress- 
wood,  each  sack  plainly  marked  with  the  name  of 
its  owner,  and  the  wfyole  tightly  packed  in  wool 
within  the  cask. 

"This  vast  treasure,  more  than  half  a  million 
of  dollars  in  gold  coin,  only  represented  a  portion 
of  my  friend's  wealth ;  for  there  were  chests  of  costly 
silks,  brocades,  velvets,  and  priceless  laces,  all  the 
accumulation  of  centuries  of  luxury  and  boundless 
riches;  paintings  by  Murillo  and  Velasquez,  that 
for  ages  had  adorned  the  long  gallery  at  Monte- 
luma;  books  of  vellum,  and  richly  bound  volumes 
from  its  marble-paved  library,  together  with  a  dozen 
wagon-loads  of  carved  ebony,  mahogany,  and  rose 
wood  furniture  from  the  same  stately  home. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  that  glorious  scene,  the 
last  evening  in  Chihuahua,  when  the  sinking  sun 
lit  up  the  low  room*  where  we  three  sat,  with  an 
open  casket  before  us  and  the  stone  table  ablaze 
with  glimmering  gems. 

"  There   were  scores   of  great,   pure  diamonds, 


42  THE  CASKET  OF  GEMS. 

flashing  back  a  quivering  glare  of  rainbow  hues; 
rubies  glowing  like  fire  with  rose  and  crimson  light ; 
white,  frosty  pearls,  glinting  beside  the  baleful 
emeralds,  that  emitted  fitful  gleams  of  green  and 
gold.  Over  all  flickered  the  wavering  shimmer  of 
opal  and  blood-stones,  mingling  with  the  violet, 
lilac,  and  purple  rays  of  sapphires  and  amethysts. 

"A  great  many  of  these  gems  had  been  purchased 
by  my  friends  through  the  advice  and  assistance  of 
Von  Brunn ;  but  the  most  precious  of  the  lot  were 
heir-looms,  of  which  Ivarene  was  justly  proud,  and 
for  an  hour  she  recounted  their  histories : — 

"  The  great  blood-stone  had  once  shone  in  the 
war-club  of  an  Aztec  prince,  who  was  slain  in  battle 
by  the  first  Baron  of  Monteluma,  one  of  those  ad 
venturous  spirits  that  came  over  and  shared  the 
glory  of  the  conquest  with  Cortez. 

"  The  carcanet  of  pearls  was  a  gift  from  Queen 
Isabella  to  the  bride  of  the  same  brave  knight. 

"A  diamond  cross  that  had  been  bestowed  by 
Leo  X.  upon  a  cardinal  of  the  house  of  Rozarro. 

"A  ruby  dragon  that  carried  in  its  mouth  the 
Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece.  This  was  a  mark  of 
the  highest  honor  that  a  Spanish  king  could  confer 
upon  his  subject,  a  viceroy  of  Mexico,  also  a  mem 
ber  of  the  same  illustrious  family  at  Monteluma. 

"  There  was  a  chain  of  rose-colored  coral,  to 
which  was  attached  an  enormous  pearl  of  the  same 
delicate  hue ;  this  bauble  had  been  bestowed  by  the 
Doge  of  Genoa  upon  Don  Arven  Rozarro  while 
the  latter  was  ambassador  of  Spain  at  that  superb 
though  decaying  city,  and  it  was  through  this  ele- 


THE  OVEELAND  JOURNEY.          43 

gant  gift  that  the  then  all-powerful  Spanish  sword 
was  induced  to  interpose  its  terrible  edge  as  a  shield 
against  the  aggressions  of  France. 

"A  pair  of  golden  spurs,  won  long  ago  in  the 
first  Crusade  by  the  Knight  of  Rozarro,  and  ropes 
of  pearls  that  had  adorned  many  a  proud  but  long 
forgotten  mistress  of  the  great  castle. 

"All  these  were  placed  within  the  steel  casket,  and 
the  only  jewel  that  Ivarene  reserved  for  her  personal 
use  on  the  journey  was  a  locket  with  a  long  gold  chain. 
This  was  the  most  precious  souvenir  in  the  whole 
collection,  so  she  averred,  for  it  was  set  in  gems 
with  the  name  of  her  mother,  and  contained  the 
miniature  portraits  of  Bruce  and  Ivarene. 

"  The  precious  casket  was  kept  in  the  large  car 
riage,  where  Ivarene,  her  two  maids,  and  Bruce 
rode  on  cushioned  seats,  that  were  constructed'  so 
as  to  serve  as  couches  when  the  inmates  of  the  ve 
hicle  became  fatigued.  Everything  that  wealth 
and  loving  care  could  secure  was  provided  by  Bruce 
to  lessen  the  tedium  of  the  journey. 

"  The  gold  was  placed  in  a  large,  strong  wagon, 
drawn  by  twelve  mules,  and  in  addition  to  the 
treasure-cask,  several  barrels  of  wine  and  other 
liquors  were  placed  in  the  wagon  for  the  purpose  of 
warding  off  suspicion.  This  vehicle  was  my  special 
charge,  and  I  carefully  guarded  it  at  night,  but 
spent  a  portion  of  the  day  in  sleep. 

"  We  arrived  in  Santa  Fe  in  the  fall  of  1848, 
and  early  the  following  spring  our  long  caravan 
started  o\it.on  the  monotonous  course  across  the 
plains,  by  the  route  to  Independence,  Missouri,  the 


44          THE  OVERLAND  JOURNEY. 

quiet  routine  of  our  journey  only  relieved  by  meet 
ing  with  great  trains  of  freighters  on  the  broad 
trail,  or  when  Ivarene  would  take  her  guitar  and 
sit  out  in  the  starry  evening  playing  the  sweet  airs 
of  her  home-land,  old  Spanish  ballads  full  of  pathos 
and  melody.  Thus  we  journeyed  until  we  reached 
this  very  spot  on  the  22d  of  August,  1849.  The 
night  was  dark  and  cloudy,  while  a  strange  silence 
brooded  over  all  nature,  broken  only  by  the  dismal 
howl  of  the  wolf  as  it  prowled  on  the  lonely  hills. 

"We  had  remarked  during  the  day  that  no 
teams  were  met — a  most  unusual  occurrence  on  that 
great  thoroughfare,  the  Santa  Fe  Trail — and  we 
vaguely  wondered  why  the  corral  should  be  silent 
and  deserted;  for  it  was  a  camping  place  that  was 
reji owned  all  along  the  trail  for  its  safety  and 
convenience. 

"  The  corral  was  an  inclosure  of  about  an  acre, 
surrounded  by  lofty  stone  walls  that  were  pierced 
by  loop-holes  on  every  side;  two  large  doors,  or 
gates,  opened  to  the  north  and  south,  which,  after 
the  teams  of  freighters  had  been  drawn  inside,  were 
locked  in  times  of  danger.  This  fort-like  corral 
had  been  built  by  the  government  as  a  place  of 
refuge  for  travelers,  but  our  long  journey  had  been 
so  free  from  trouble  that  we  had  become  careless, 
and,  as  the  night  was  very  sultry  and  the  air  op 
pressive,  we  preferred  camping  outside  the  walls 
on  the  level  land,  where  wre  are  now  sitting,  near 
the  bank  of  the  Cottonwood. 

"  Ivarene  had  been  feeling  unwell  that  day,  and 
we  were  all  very  solicitous  for  her  comfort  and 


A   DARK   TRAGEDY.  45 

welfare  at  that  time ;  for  it  was  known  that  an  in 
teresting  event  would  soon  occur,  that  would  give 
my  dear  friend  Bruce  the  title  of  father.  In  defer 
ence  to  her  condition  the  usual  noise  and  hilarity 
of  the  camp  were  not  indulged  in ;  but  a  sense  of 
coming  disaster,  a  foreboding  of  some  great  calamity, 
seemed  to  weigh  on  the  spirits  of  our  party  on  that 
fatal  evening. 

"  How  strange  it  is  that  when  the  sky  is  serene 
and  clear  we  may  feel  the  approaching  storm! 
Who  can  explain  that  shock  of  repulsion  we  feel 
when  we  meet  a  secret  foe  ?  The  same  Providence 
whispered,  that  murky  night,  of  the  danger  and 
disaster  lurking  near. 

"  But  each  one  tried  to  shake  off  the  feeling  of 
apprehension ;  and  as  a  storm  was  rising  in  the 
north-west  we  attributed  our  depression  to  that 
state  of  the  atmosphere  which  precedes  the  thunder 
storm. 

"  I  did  not  sleep  for  several  hours  after  retiring 
to  the  wagon,  but  remained  wakeful  and  restless, 
listening  to  the  jabbering  of  the  wolves  and  rumble 
of  the  distant  thunder.  The  fitful  slumber  into 
which  I  at  length  fell  was  pervaded  by  hideous 
dreams,  and  when  I  was  awakened  by  the  yell  of 
savages  it  seemed,  for  a  moment,  only  the  contin 
uation  of  the  strange  phantasms  that  had  haunted 
my  sleep. 

"But  I  sprang  out,  a  pistol  in  each  hand,  and 
was  soon  struggling  in  the  whirlpool  of  confusion 
and  terror  that  prevailed  around.  The  crack  of 
rifles  and  whistling  of  arrows,  the  shrieks  of  the 


46  A    DARK   TRAGEDY. 

wounded  and  dying,  the  blood-chilling  whoops  of 
the  Indians,  all  commingled  with  the  bellowing  of 
the  frightened  cattle  in  hideous  clamor. 

"  With  a  feeling  of  sickening  dread  I  thought 
of  Bruce  and  his  wife  as  I  dashed  toward  their 
wagon.  As  I  neared  it  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning 
from  the  cloud  which  had  arisen  revealed  a  scene 
of  such  revolting  horror  that  its  remembrance 
causes  me  yet  to  turn  faint  and  dizzy.  More 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century  has  rolled  by,  fraught 
with  war  and  sorrow,  but  that  scene  of  woe  is 
burned  deep  within  my  heart,  to  rankle  long  as  life 
endures." 

Here  the  colonel's  voice  broke  to  a  whisper, 
while  the  sobs  of  Maud  and  Grace  mingled  with 
their  mother's  soft  weeping.  Then,  after  a  moment 
of  silent  anguish,  while  his  hands  hung  clenched  in 
an  agony  of  intense  grief,  with  bowed  head  and 
a  voice  so  husky  that  it  was  barely  audible,  the 
colonel  continued : — 

"  By  the  dazzling  light  I  saw  Ivarene  kneeling 
in  her  white  robe,  a  look  of  imploring  agony  upon 
her  pale,  uplifted  face.  Over  her,  with  a  poised 
tomahawk,  glared  a  powerful,  painted  demon. 
Bruce,  struggling  in  the  grasp  of  two  hideous  sav 
ages,  was  driving  his  glittering  dirk  into  the  breast 
of  one  of  his  assailants.  I  fired  at  the  heart  of  the 
wretch  who  stood  over  Ivarene.  With  a  dying  yell 
he  bounded  into  the  air.  Then,  as  darkness  was 
once  again  settling  down  over  the  scene,  I  felt  the 
shock  of  a  stunning  blow — then  a  long  oblivion." 

The  colonel  was  too  visibly  affected  to  proceed 


A   DARK   TEAGEDY.  47 

further  with  the  narrative,  and  as  he  relapsed  into 
silence  the  listeners  slowly  dispersed,  some  to  the 
duties  of  camp-life ;  others  strolled  out  to  the  long, 
grass-grown  grave,  leaving  Colonel  Warlow  alone, 
lost  in  meditation. 


48  A   DARK   TRAGEDY. 


Chapter  IV. 

COLONEL    WARLOW'S    STO Ft Y— CONTINUED. 

/TVHE  listeners  had  seated  themselves  on  the 
JL  buffalo-robes  which  Scott  Moreland's  thought- 
fulness  had  provided,  and  the  colonel  resumed  the 
thread  of  his  narrative. 

"  The  blow  was  followed  by  unconsciousness,  and 
when  I  awoke,  as  it  were,  from  a  long  and  fevered 
sleep,  I  was  seated  in  an  easy-chair  on  a  shaded  ve 
randa,  and  before  me  stretched  the  limitless  ocean, 
its  restless  waves  purling  in  foam  on  the  sandy 
beach  at  my  feet.  Beside  the  porch  on  which  I  was 
seated  grew  luxuriant  lime  and  orange  trees,  loaded 
with  fruit  and  bloom,  and  the  air  was  heavy  with 
the  sensuous  odors  of  tropical  flowers. 

"A  ray  of  memory  gleamed  feebly  across  my 
confused  and  cloudy  mind,  and  I  vaguely  wondered 
why  my  hands  should  be  so  wasted  and  thin.  Then 
a  wavering  sensation  swept  over  my  mental  facul 
ties  like  a  dark  cloud.  The  glimmer  of  memory 
once  again  struggled  and  flickered,  then  flashed 
forth  with  a  dazzling  light,  piercing  through  the 
fog  and  haze  which  had  so  long  obscured  the  light 
of  reason,  and  I  felt  as  if  the  sun  had  just  arisen. 

"  As  I  sat  with  closed  eyes,  gently  rocking  to 
and  fro,  I  remembered  dimly,  like  some  half-forgot- 


LOS  ANGELES.  49 

ten  dream,  my  long  journey  across  the  continent  with 
Walraven,  our  camping  beside  the  Kansas  stream 
at  the  Stone  Corral ;  and  then  with  surprise  I  looked 
out  on  the  ocean  before  me.  Suddenly  the  memory 
of  that  night  of  horror  came  vividly  to  my  mind, 
and  with  a  loud  cry  I  sprang  to  my  feet ;  but  a  firm 
hand  was  laid  on  my  shoulder,  and  a  kind  voice 
requested  me  to  be  calm,  and  pressed  me  to  drink 
the  glass  of  wine  which  was  held  to  my  lips. 

"  I  obeyed  mechanically,  and  as  I  drained  the 
cup  of  its  sparkling  contents  I  glanced  up  at  the 
bronzed  though  handsome  stranger  beside  me,  who, 
with  joy  and  gratification  beaming  in  his  blue  eyes, 
said  in  answer  to  my  look  of  inquiry : — 

" '  Old  boy,  you  will  soon  be  yourself  again ; 
but  you  must  not  talk  too  much,  nor  ask  questions 
just  now.' 

" '  But  where  am  I,  and  what  does  it  all  mean  ?' 
I  exclaimed  in  a  dazed  sort  of  way. 

" l  You  are  near  Los  Angeles,  and  this  is  the 
Pacific  Ocean  which  lies  before  you/  he  answered 
slowly. 

"  When  he  had  made  this  strange  statement,  I 
felt  a  wavering  sensation  once  more  cross  my  brain, 
as  if  madness  were  about  to  seize  me. 

" '  You  should  not  talk,  nor  think  of  the  past/ 
said  he  anxiously,  '  but  brace  up  and  recover ;  then 
we  will  go  up  to  the  mines,  and  dig  *out  nuggets 
like  nigger-heads/ 

" '  But  at  least  tell  me  how  I  came  here/  I 
entreated. 

"  (  Well/  said  he  in  a  faltering  manner,  '  if  you 
5 


50  A    FRIEND   IN    NEED. 

will  be  composed  I  will  do  so;  but  you  must  not 
give  way  to  your  emotions.' 

"  I  sank  back  in  the  chair,  motioning  for  him  to 
proceed,  as  the  suspense  was  unbearable ;  and  he 
then  related  the  following,  in  soothing  tones,  like 
one  who  had  long  humored  and  tenderly  nursed  a 
suffering  invalid : — 

"  My  name  is  Roger  [Coble,  and  my  home  is 
near  Springfield,  111.,  from  which  place  I  started  to 
the  gold-fields  of  the  Sacramento  River,  which  had 
thrown  our  quiet  rural  community  into  a  great  ex 
citement  by  the  rumor  of  their  fabulous  richness. 
Our  train  had  only  traveled  a  few  days'  drive  west 
ward  from  the  Missouri,  when  we  came  to  the  Stone 
Corral  on  the  bank  of  the  Cottonwood.  There  we 
found  you,  wounded  and  delirious.  I  placed  you  on 
a  canvas  bed  in  one  of  my  wagons,  and  brought  you 
on  to  Santa  Fe. 

"  'As  you  were  still  delirious  and  in  a  helpless 
condition,  I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  leaving 
you  at  the  latter  place,  but  brought  you  along  with 
the  train  to  this  place,  where  we  arrived  last  week, 
and  I  am  overjoyed  to  see  you  on  your  feet  again.' 

" '  But  what  was  the  fate  of  Walraven  and  his 
wife?'  I  cried,  in  great  excitement. 

"  Seeing  the  wild  look  again  coming  into  my 
eyes,  he  said,  with  a  saddened  expression : — 

" '  Do  not  ask  any  more  questions,  my  boy. 
When  you  become  stronger  I  will  tell  you  all. 
But  now,  my  friend,  do  try  to  think  of  pleasanter 
themes.  If  you  do  not,  you  will  surely  relapse  into 
your  former  deplorable  state.' 


A   FRIEND   IN   NEED.  51 

"Therefore  I  took  his  kindly  advice,  and  ig 
nored  the  past  with  all  its  bitter  memories,  and 
listened  with  growing  interest  to  his  hopeful  plans 
for  the  future.  As  he  told  of  the  great  gold-fields 
that  had  been  discovered  in  the  newly  acquired 
California,  that  were  of  such  fabulous  richness,  he 
said,  that  all  the  world  was  wild  with  excitement 
and  wonder,  I  began  «to  feel  the  infection  of  his 
enthusiasm,  and  almost  forgot  the  fact  that  I  was 
penniless  and  two  thousand  miles  from  home. 

"The  next  day  I  felt  still  stronger;  but  the 
ugly  wound  on  my  head  was  not  yet  entirely  healed, 
being  a  painful  reminder  of  the  terrible  blow  which 
I  had  received  the  night  of  the  attack  at  the  corral. 

"As  the  days  passed  by  I  rapidly  convalesced, 
and  erelong  was  able  to  walk  through  the  orange- 
groves,  or  sail  with  Roger  out  on  the  tranquil 
water;  but  whenever  I  had  nerved  myself  up  to 
the  point  of  asking  the  fate  of  my  friends,  to  my 
horror  I  would  find  that  same  old  sickening,  wa 
vering  sensation  steal  over  my  brain  that  I  remem 
bered  so  well,  and  I  would  shudder  to  think  that 
I  stood,  as  it  were,  upon  the  brink  of  madness. 

"  So  in  our  long  rambles  on  the  sea-shore  or 
drives  on  the  beach,  we  shunned  all  allusion  to  the 
fateful  past,  tacitly  ignoring  the  unexplained  sequel 
to  that  terrible  tragedy ;  but  the  suspense  and  strain 
were  so  great  that  it  is  a  blissful  thing  that  events 
followed  which  diverted  my  mind  from  the  painful 
subject,  or  perhaps  my  reason  may  have  been  ut 
terly  overthrown^ 

"  Roger  had  disposed  of  his  teams,  and,  after 


52  A    FRIEND    IN    NEED. 

consulting  me,  procured  tickets  to  San  Francisco,  a 
small  village  that  had  sprung  up  on  the  coast  to  the 
north,  and  as  he  gave  me  my  ticket  he  said  with  a 
smile : — 

"'We  will  be  pards,  George,  and  divide  profit 
and  loss  up  in  the  mines,  and  when  you  strike  it 
"  rich,"  why,  you  can  repay  me ;  and  as  for  inter 
est — guess  we  will  smoke  that  out  at  your  expense/ 
"  I  replied,  through  my  tears,  that  all  the  gold 
of  this  earth  could  not  repay  his  kindness  and 
generosity. 

"Before  sailing  on  the  Lapwing  I  wrote  to  my 
friends  in  Missouri,  telling  them  briefly  of  the  dis 
aster  which  had  befallen  me,  but  that  I  was  with 
the  best  fellow  alive;  and  in  my  letter  to  sister 
Amy  I  told  her  how  nobly  Roger  had  cared  for  me 
in  my  direst  hour  of  trial  and  need,  and  I  hinted 
that  she  must  wait  for  me  to  bring  him  back,  which 
I  would  do  when  I  had  regained  my  lost  fortune  by 
working  in  the  mines,  to  which  we  were  now  just 
starting,  full  of  hope  and  enthusiasm. 

"Our  first  day  out  on  the  Pacific  proved  that 
body  of  water  to  be  woefully  misnamed  indeed; 
for  the  weather  was  just  as  vile  and  fickle  as  I 
ever  saw  on  the  much  maligned  Atlantic.  In  the 
evening  Roger  and  myself  were  seated  on  deck, 
watching  the  sun  set  in  a  pile  of  black  clouds, 
which,  as  the  broad  streams  of  amber  and  violet 
flamed  up  from  behind  the  sombre  mass,  slowly 
changed  to  purple,  rose,  and  crimson,  edged  with 
gold. 

"When  the  brilliant  hues  had  faded,  the  dusky 


A   STORM   ON   THE   PACIFIC.  53 

clouds  rested  on  a  sullen  sea,  that  was  only  ruf 
fled  by  the  fitful  breeze,  which  rose  and  fell,  then 
died  away,  leaving  a  death-like  calm,  oppressive 
as  it  was  foreboding. 

"  The  frightened  sea-birds  flew  screaming  by, 
flapping  their  broad  white  wings,  then  fading 
swiftly  away.  The  captain  now  came  on  deck, 
and,  by  his  quick  orders  and  restless  movements, 
we  knew  that  he  anticipated  danger  from  the  storm 
which  we  could  see  rapidly  rising,  and  the  rigging 
was  soon  in  order  to  meet  the  heavy  gale. 

"A  fiery  moon  rose  in  the  pale  eastern  sky,  and 
out  to  the  south-west  hung  the  bow-shaped  cloud, 
black  as  ebony,  save  when  veined  by  the  blood-red 
lightning;  but  as  the  majestic  mass  towered  to  the 
zenith,  it  changed  to  green,  edged  by  a  roll  of 
fleecy  white,  which  rose  and  fell  as  if  weaving  a 
shroud  for  sea  and  sky. 

"  We  lashed  ourselves  to  the  rigging,  so  we  could 
get  the  full  benefit,  as  Roger  said,  of  our  first  storm 
at  sea.  We  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  soon  a  wall 
of  waves,  like  a  troop  of  war-horses,  came  tossing 
their  snowy  manes  on  the  gale,  and  when  the  mad 
surge  struck  us  the  old  ship  quivered  in  every  tim 
ber.  The  clouds  wrapped  us  about,  and  the  blind 
ing  spray  and  rain  drenched  the  deck ;  the  lightning 
glimmered  fitfully  through  the  mist,  or  hissed  in 
zigzag  streams  of  molten  gold  along  the  surging 
waves.  A  lull,  then  again  the  blinding  flash,  fol 
lowed  by  the  bellowing  thunder,  crashing  down,  it 
seemed,  to  the  caverns  beneath,  the  wind  shrieking 
through  the  rigging,  the  tumult  of  waves,  rising  in 


54  A   STOKM   ON   THE   PACIFIC. 

hoarse  clamor  and  deafening  roar — followed  again 
by  blinding  stroke  and  maddening  crash. 

"  I  have  stood  on  old  Chapultepec's  crumbling 
wall,  when  mortar  and  cannon  hurled  their  iron 
hail ;  when  screaming  shells  and  belching  roar  min 
gled  with  the  shrieks  of  mangled  and  dying  men, 
and  the  sullen  boom  of  exploding  mines  shocked 
and  dulled  the  ear;  but  never  had  I  known  an 
hour  like  this. 

"  The  poor  old  vessel,  like  a  hunted  doe,  bounded 
away,  followed  by  all  the  hounds  of  the  gale,  climb 
ing  the  dizzy  cliff  or  leaping  the  yawning  chasm, 
and  throwing  the  foam  from  off  her  sides;  then 
hiding  in  the  gorges  below,  where  the  glassy  wall 
towered  far  above  with  combing  crest,  scattering 
the  spray  out  over  the  tossing  sea.  Again,  as  the 
ship  climbed  the  watery  hill,  she  seemed  to  pause 
one  brief  moment  on  the  foamy  height,  then  plunged 
into  the  swishing  whirlpool  beneath. 

"  The  night  wore  on,  yet  still  our  vessel  stag 
gered  along  in  her  wild  flight;  but  the  winds  began 
to  abate  their  fury  somewhat,  and  the  flashes  grew 
more  dim  and  fitful  until  the  storm  rolled  away  to 
the  east.  Then  the  moon  peered  with  white  face 
through  the  rift  of  clouds ;  but  as  her  spectral  light 
only  served  to  make  more  weird  and  appalling  the 
waste  of  heaving  billows,  she  quickly  hid  behind 
her  fleecy  veil,  as  if  to  shut  the  wild  scene  from 
view. 

"  Although  the  wind  had  died  to  a  gentle  gale, 
the  frightened  waves  still  galloped  madly  along  as 
though  fleeing  from  a  grizzly  horror  they  dared  not 


SHIPWEECK.  55 

face,  and  the  ship  labored  like  some  jaded  cavalry 
horse,  that  staggers  and  reels  after  the  fierce  charge. 

"  The  deck  had  been  a  scene  of  great  confusion 
ever  since  the  storm  had  abated,  and,  although  the 
waves  and  spray  broke  over  the  vessel,  the  crew 
were  rushing  about  wildly,  and  to  our  surprise  we 
saw  them  launching  the  boats;  so  we  unlashed  our 
selves  and  hurried  forward — only  to  hear  the  de 
spairing  cry  :  '  The  vessel  is  sinking  I' 

"  I  looked  out  upon  the  waves,  which  even  now 
seemed  nearer,  and  with  a  clammy  shudder  compre 
hended  what  horror  they  were  fleeing.  Death  rode 
those  cold  waters,  and  every  billow  was  a  yawning 
grave. 

"  What  a  dread  alternative — to  cast  ourselves 
out  on  that  boiling,  foaming  sea,  with  only  a  frail 
boat  between  us  and  eternity,  or  remain  on  deck 
and  feel  the  ship  slowly  settling  under  us! 

"  But  the  boats  were  quickly  manned,  and  into 
them  were  thrown  a  few  casks  of  spirits  and  water, 
with  a  small  quantity  of  food;  then  we  pushed  off 
from  the  fast-sinking  ship,  and  in  a  moment  were 
riding  the  waves. 

"  We  had  left  a  light  burning  on  the  vessel,  to 
enable  us  to  steer  away  from  it,  and  thus  avoid  being 
run  down  or  ingulfed  by  the  final  whirlpool  of  the 
wreck;  and  after  tossing  about  on  the  troubled 
waters  for  half  an  hour,  trying  to  keep  the  boats 
together,  we  heard  a  loud  report,  caused  by  the  com 
pressed  air  blowing  up  the  deck  of  the  vessel ;  then 
the  light  on  the  old  ship  went  out  forever,  and  the 
sea  closed  over  her  shattered  form. 


56  UXDER   THE   WAVES. 

"  It  may  have  been  an  hour  before  dawn,  when 
suddenly  we  found  ourselves  among  the  breakers,  and 
the  coast  looming  dimly  through  the  mist.  Before 
we  had  time  to  realize  our  situation  our  boat  was 
capsized  and  we  were  struggling  with  the  waves. 

"  I  shouted  to  Roger,  but  no  answer.  Then  I  saw 
a  head  appear  above  the  water,  and  swam  toward  it, 
hoping  it  was  he ;  but  the  form  was  carried  around 
the  headland  by  the  rapid  current,  so  I  struck  out 
for  the  frowning  cliff. 

"  Diving  under  the  largest  waves,  I  saw,  to  my 
great  joy,  that  I  was  gaining  and  soon  was  thrown 
on  the  rocks  with  terrible  force ;  but  I  lost  my  hold 
on  the  stony  ledge  that  I  had  clutched,  and  was  being 
carried  back  to  sea ;  but  a  thought  struck  me  which 
I  instantly  recognized  as  being  the  only  chance  of  es 
cape,  and  to  which  I  am  certain  I  owe  the  preservation 
of  my  life  :  I  dived  to  the  bottom,  and  began  walk 
ing  toward  the  cliff,  which  was  not  more  than  a 
rod  away. 

"  Oh,  the  horror  and  agony  of  those  few  mo 
ments  under  the  sea !  The  seconds  seemed  to 
lengthen  to  hours.  Brief  as  the  time  and  short  as 
the  distance  may  have  been,  1 7ve  traveled  many  a 
thousand  miles  through  the  sandy  deserts  of  the 
West  and  suffered  less  than  in  that  one  minute  at 
the  bottom  of  the  ocean." 


ALONE.  57 


Chapter  V. 

WARLOW'S     STORY — CONTINUED. 

"T  ET  me  see — where  was  I?"  said  the  colonel, 
-L/  who  had  paused  to  light  his  pipe  at  this  crit 
ical  juncture  of  the  narrative. 

"Twenty  thousand  leagues  under  the  sea,"  re 
plied  Grace  Moreland,  gaily. 

"  Well,  I  certainly  could  not  have  suffered  more 
in  the  same  time  if  I  had  been,"  said  he  with  a 
grim  smile.  "  But  just  when  I  had  given  up  all 
hope,  and  thought  my  lungs  would  burst,  I 
straightened  up,  determined  to  come  to  the  surface 
at  any  risk.  Lo  !  I  had  been  groping  along  in  four 
feet  of  water — and  only  a  step  from  the  shore! 

"  I  had  only  time  to  plunge  forward  and  clutch 
a  jagged  rock,  when  a  mighty  wave  swept  in,  nearly 
tearing  me  from  my  place;  but  this  time  I  held 
fast,  and  when  the  wave  had  receded  I  clambered  up 
out  of  further  danger,  and  there  I  lay,  too  utterly 
exhausted  to  move  until  dawn. 

"  I  had  hoped  that  daylight  would  reveal  the 
presence  of  my  companion;  but  the  sun  struggled 
up  over  a  lone  stretch  of  rocky,  barren  shore — 
nothing  living  was  visible.  I  strained  my  eyes, 
gazing  out  over  the  long  line  of  breakers.  It  was 
a  fruitless  quest ;  I  was  alone. 

"  Then  I  climbed  up  to  the  table-land.  A  sandy 
6 


58  THE   CASTAWAY. 

plain,  broken  by  patches  of  sage-brush  and  thickets 
of  chapparal  was  before  me,  and  out  toward  the 
rising  sun  rose  a  lofty  chain  of  mountains,  as  though 
to  shut  me  out  from  all  the  world. 

u  I  walked  around  the  promontory  and  along 
the  coast  for  several  miles,  still  hoping  I  might  find 
my  friend ;  in  vain.  I  shouted  repeatedly ;  no 
answer.  So  with  a  heavy  heart  I  turned  and  walked 
inland. 

"After  assuaging  my  thirst  at  a  cavity  in  the 
rocks,  where  the  rain-water  had  collected,  and 
satisfying  my  hunger  with  the  eggs  of  a  wild  fowl, 
the  nest  of  which  I  found  near  a  sage-brush,  I  con 
tinued  my  explorations  inland  toward  a  pass  which 
seemed  to  open  in  the  mountains  toward  the  east. 

"As  I  neared  the  glen,  trees,  a  brook,  and  a 
flock  of  sheep  became  visible.  Then,  to  my  great 
delight,  a  house  showed  through  the  trees ;  and 
when  a  woman  appeared  in  the  doorway,  I  hurried 
forward  and  addressed  her  in  Spanish,  to  which  she 
replied  in  the  same  tongue. 

"  I  told  my  story  of  shipwreck,  and  the  kind- 
hearted  peasant  woman  bade  me  welcome  to  the 
humble  dwelling,  and  proceeded  to  set  before  me 
a  repast  of  omelet  and  frijoles.  While  I  was  still 
seated  at  the  table,  her  husband,  Pedro,  came  in 
from  herding  his  flock,  and  we  soon  were  on  our 
way  to  the  village  to  make  inquiries  regarding  my 
lost  friend  and  the  crew  of  the  Lapvnng.  But 
nothing  could  be  learned  of  them;  so  I  retired  to 
rest,  and  that  night  slept  the  dreamless  sleep  of 
sheer  exhaustion. 


THE  GOLDEN  GATE  TO  "  HOME,  SWEET  HOME."    59 

"  In  the  morning  I  renewed  the  search,  but  with 
no  better  results;  and  although  I  traveled  along 
the  coast  for  more  than  a  score  of  miles,  nothing 
could  be  found  but  the  bodies  of  three  sailors  that 
I  recognized  as  having  been  among  the  crew  of  the 
ill-fated  ship.  At  last,  weary  and  heart-sore,  I 
joined  a  party  of  miners,  and  proceeded  to  San 
Francisco ;  but  as  my  inquiries  there  also  proved 
fruitless,  I  immediately  went  to  the  diggings,  where 
my  fortunes  soon  mended,  and  I  was  able  to  send 
a  small  purse  to  honest  Pedro. 

"  During  my  stay  in  the  mines  I  had  frequent 
letters  from  home,  and  sister  Amy  expressed  great 
sorrow  at  the  fate  of  my  noble  friend  Roger ;  but  I 
wrote  that  it  might  yet  be  possible  he  was  living, 
and  we  still  hoped  on.  The  greatest  comfort  to 
me,  however,  were  the  letters  from  Mary,  who 
urged  me  to  return  and  not  wait  to  acquire  more 
gold ;  and  as  my  luck  was  '  jes  powerful/  as  the 
miners  averred,  I  found  at  the  end  of  two  years  I 
had  saved  $50,000,  and  deciding  to  '  let  well-enough 
alone/  set  sail  for  home. 

"As  we  were  sailing  out  through  the  now  world- 
renowned  Golden  Gate,  the  captain,  to  whom  I  had 
just  intrusted  my  money,  remarked  that  I  did  not 
seem  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  joy  that  pervaded 
the  throng  of  returning  miners ;  and  in  reply  to  his 
look  of  inquiry  and  tone  of  interest,  I  said  that  the 
last  time  I  was  on  a  ship  I  had  witnessed  a  terrible 
storm,  in  which  the  vessel  was  wrecked,  the  crew 
and  a  dear,  kind  friend  were  lost,  and  I  alone  was 
saved ;  and  now  the  sight  of  the  ocean,  once  again, 


60  ACAPULCO. 

recalled  it  all  so  vividly  that  I  was  sad  and  grieved, 
even  in  the  hour  when  I  should  rejoice  that  all  my 
toil  was'  over.  I  was  too  affected  to  talk  further, 
but  looked  wistfully  out  over  the  cruel  sea  that 
had  closed  over  Roger,  my  best  and  truest  friend. 

"  The  captain,  after  a  few  moments  of  silence, 
asked  in  a  tone  of  sympathy : — 

" e  What  was  the  name  of  the  vessel  that  was 
wrecked  ?' 

"  '  The  Lapwing,'  I  replied. 

" '  But  the  crew  and  passengers  were  saved/ 
said  he  quickly. 

"  '  Saved  ! — Roger  saved  P  I  shouted,  dizzy  with 
joy  ;  then  as  I  sank  into  a  seat,  weak  and  unnerved, 
the  officer  continued  : — 

"  *  Yes,  the  crew  was  saved.  They  were  picked 
up  by  a  vessel  bound  for  Acapulco.  You  can  learn 
the  particulars  by  calling  on  the  American  consul 
at  that  port,  as  I  believe  he  took  charge  of  them 
and  assisted  them  on  to  their  respective  destinations/ 

"'I'll  give  you  a  thousand  gold  dollars  to  put 
me  off  at  Acapulco/  I  cried  impulsively. 

"  'Agreed/  said  he,  with  a  laugh.  '  We  always 
do  stop  there,  and  take  a  day  to  revictual  and 
water.  No,  my  friend,  keep  your  hard-earned  dol 
lars  ;  but  if  you  find  your  gratitude  burdensome, 
why,  just  name  your  next  boy  after  me/  then  he 
left  me  with  a  good-natured  smile. 

"  I  will  say  that  I  found  it  a  very  pleasant  way 
of  discharging  the  debt  by  naming  my  oldest  son 
here  after  the  good  old  sea-dog,  Captain  Clifford; 
and  some  way  I  always  associate  the  name  with 


ACAPULCO.  61 

the  thought  of  that  day  when  I  heard  the  good 
news. 

"  How  interminable  seemed  the  long,  bright 
days,  as  we  sailed  southward !  I  paced  the  deck 
for  hours,  and  grew  morose  and  nervous,  chafing 
under  the  slowness  of  the  stout  craft.  '  But  all 
things  have  an  end' — an  adage,  by  the  way,  which 
my  dealings  and  travel  in  the  tropics  has  led'  me  to 
doubt — and  when,  one  evening,  we  sailed  into  the 
long-wished  for  harbor,  I  was  so  impatient  to  land 
that  only  the  thought  of  sharks  prevented  me  from 
swimming  ashore. 

"After  night-fall,  however,  I  found  myself  in  a 
crooked,  winding  alley,  termed  a  street  in  the  florid 
courtesy  of  that  tropic  land,  and  offering  a  coin  to 
a  villainous-looking  native — the  only  guide  I  could 
procure — asked  him  to  show  me  the  way  to  the 
American  consulate;  and  we  were  soon  en  route 
thitherward,  I,  meanwhile,  taking  the  precaution  to 
cover  my  vile-looking  guide  with  a  pistol  in  one 
hand  and  a  bowie-knife  in  the  other. 

"  For  an  age,  it  seemed,  we  tramped  through  the 
murky,  unlighted  streets,  until  at  last  we  arrived 
before  a  fortress-like  building,  at  the  gate  of  which 
blinked  one  solitary  lamp. 

"At  my  request  to  see  the  consul,  the  servant 
informed  me  that  '  his  worshipful  master  had  driven 
out  this  morning  to  dine  with  the  noble  Don  Pablo 
de  Zorilla,  and  that  he  would  remain  to  the  ball  at 
the  mansion  of  that  illustrious  sen  or/  etc. 

"  I  could  barely  refrain  from  kicking  the  miser 
able  flunky,  and  the  air  grew  thick  and  maroon 


62  ROGER. 

with  the  expressions  in  which  my  disappointment 
found  utterance.  Telling  the  porter  that  I  hoped 
his  lazy  master  would  not  stop  the  '  wheels  of  com 
merce'  to-morrow  to  eat  garlic  and  capsicum  with 
the  aristocracy,  I  returned  to  the  vessel. 

"  Next  morning  I  called  again  at  the  consulate, 
and  the  scowling  porter,  after  conducting  me  to  a 
room,  said  that  his  master  was  sleeping,  but  he  was 
instructed  to  say  ( to  the  insolent  American '  that*  his 
excellency  '  was  too  lazy  to  see  me  until  he  had  slept 
off  the  effect  of  the  garlic,  capsicum,  and  other 
kindred  delicacies,  of  which  he  had  been  partaking.' 
Then,  grinning  derisively,  the  servant  left  the  room, 
banging  the  door  behind  him. 

"  Well,  I  just  stormed  up  and  down  that  room  for 
two  long  hours,  fuming,  raving,  and  hurling  invec 
tives  at  all  the  tribe  of  official  sluggards.  At  length, 
hearing  footsteps  without,  I  clenched  my  hands  in 
rage,  vowing  wrath  and  vengeance  on  the  insulting 
and  self-sufficient  officer;  but  when  the  servant 
opened  the  door  and  announced,  'Senor  Consul,'  my 
anger  was  all  forgotten,  and,  instead  of  greeting  that 
functionary  with  a  thwack  on  the  ear,  I  sprang  for 
ward  with  a  wild  cry  : — 

" i  Roger — Oh,  Roger — am  I  dreaming  ?' 

"  ( George — George — is  it  possible  ?  Alive  and 
well  ?  I  've  mourned  you  as  dead  for  years.  Thank 
God—at  last !' 

"As  I  stood  there  wringing  his  hand  and  gazing 
on  his  dear  face  through  my  tears,  it  is  needless  to 
say  all  my  belligerent  designs  oozed  magically  away. 

"We  were   soon  interrupted,  however,  by  the 


ROGEK.  63 

porter,  who,  at  the  first  strange  demonstration  on 
my  part,  had  fled  shrieking  '  Murder!  murder  I'  his 
outcry  bringing  a  whole  brood  of  slipshod  servants 
down  upon  my  devoted  head.  They  came  swarming 
in,  armed  with  gridirons,  tongs,  and  gourds.  One 
sallow,  emaciated  peon  carried  a  crucifix,  which  he 
had  evidently  snatched  as  he  flew  to  the  rescue.  A 
burly  fellow  was  ju»t  on  the  eve  of  disemboweling 
me  with  a  pot-metal  poniard,  when  Roger  hastened 
to  explain  that  we  were  old  friends  who  had  not 
met  for  years,  and  as  they  retreated  in  a  crestfallen 
manner,  with  many  grunts  and  shrugs,  we  both 
smiled  at  the  ludicrous  phase  of  our  meeting ;  yes, 
I  believe  that  '  smiled '  is  a  very  mild  term  to  apply 
to  our  hilarity  on  that  occasion. 

"  Reminding  Roger  that  the  vessel  sailed  at 
four  P.  M.,  and  my  stay  therefore  was  limited,  I 
begged  him  to  tell  me  the  particulars  of  his  happy 
escape,  and  when  we  were  comfortably  seated  on 
the  easy-chairs  in  the  secluded  court,  he  told  briefly 
how  he,  with  several  others,  clung  to  the  capsized 
boat,  and  had  been  rescued  by  a  passing  vessel, 
bound  southward.  On  reaching  Acapulco  he  had 
called  at  the  American  consulate,  but  found  the 
consul  prostrated  with  yellow-fever,  and  (as  Roger 
had  passed  through  an  attack  of  that  dread  scourge 
at  New  Orleans  a  few  years  previous  to  this)  he 
had  volunteered  to  nurse  the  stricken  officer,  who 
slowly  recovered  from  the  fearful  malady. 

"While  that  grateful  invalid  was  convalescing, 
Roger  had  been  intrusted  with  the  accumulated 
business  of  the  post.  Having  discharged  the  duties 


64  ROGER. 

devolving  on  him  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  employer, 
that  gentleman  had  deputized  him  as  vice-consul, 
and  then  returned  to  the  States. 

"  "  Finally  the  consul  resigned,  and  Roger,  on  his 
recommendation,  was  appointed  to  the  office  as  his 
successor,  meantime  receiving  a  hint  from  the  home 
government  to  make  himself  as  agreeable  as  possible 
to  the  natives. 

"  '  Which  you  see,  George/  said  he  with  a  merry 
smile,  l  meant  to  acquire  a  taste  for  "  garlic  and 
capsicum." 

"  Then,  at  his  request,  I  related  my  experience ; 
how  I  had  searched  in  vain  for  him  along  the  coast ; 
had  gone  to  the  mines  and  made  my  '  pile/  and  on 
embarking  for  home  had  learned  of  the  rescue  of 
the  crew  and  passengers  of  the  Lapwing ;  the  long 
days  of  suspense  that  had  followed,  and  my  impa 
tience  to  learn  something  of  his  fate.  I  did  not 
omit  telling  how  narrowly  he  escaped  a  sound  flog 
ging  at  my  hands  after  I  had  been  kept  waiting  so 
long,  which  caused  him  great  merriment. 

"  During  our  brief  conversation  I  had  been  con 
scious  of  an  undercurrent  of  burning  anxiety  to 
learn  the  fate  of  Bruce  Walraven  and  his  wife. 
The  suspense  and  uncertainty  which  had  haunted 
me  for  two  long  years — the  mystery  of  their  fate — 
would  now  vanish  forever,  I  knew;  but  I  shrank 
with  a  strange  foreboding  from  asking  the  truth 
which  my  heart  had  so  long  been  vainly  seeking. 
My  dry  lips  and  parched  tongue  could  only  feebly 
articulate  as  I  begged  Roger  to  tell  me  the  sequel 
of  that  terrible  tragedy  at  the  Old  Corral. 


ROGER.  65 

"  With  a  look  of  pain  on  his  handsome  face,  he 
said,  in  a  faltering  voice: — 

"  i  I  was  journeying  along  on  the  Santa  Fe  Trail 
from  Independence,  Missouri,  to  California.  Our 
large  train  had  been  delayed  at  Council  Grove  by 
a  rumor  that  the  Cheyennes  were  on  the  war-path ; 
but  nothing  having  been  seen  of  the  marauders,  we 
started  out,  after  a  few  days,  trusting  to  our  num 
bers  for  defense,  and  when  we  arrived  at  the  Stone 
Corral,  on  the  bank  of  the  Cottonwood,  a  scene  of 
revolting  horror  met  our  startled  sight — a  scene 
that  will  live  forever  in  my  memory. 

"  '  The  stone  walls  of  the  corral  had  been  hurled 
down,  and  near  the  side  of  the  stream  were  the 
charred  and  crisped  remains  of  at  least  fifty  human 
victims,  mingled  with  the  irons  of  the  wagons, 
which  evidently  had  been  fired  and  the  bodies 
thrown  into  the  blaze/ 

"  '  There  were  fifty-four  persons  in  our  train- 
How  many  bodies  were  found  ?'  I  asked,  breath 
lessly. 

" '  We  counted  the  smouldering  skeletons,  and 
found  that  fifty-three  persons  had  fallen  victims  to 
the  diabolical  fury  of  the  Indians/ 

"  '  Oh,  God — all  gone  !'  I  cried,  hoarse  with  the 
misery  of  their  certain  destruction — '  gallant  Bruce 
and  beautiful,  kind  Ivarene  !  What  a  terrible  fate  !' 

" '  We  were  burying  the  skeletons  on  a  knoll  a 
few  hundred  paces  westward  from  the  Old  Corral/ 
continued  Roger,  f  and  were  carrying  stone  from 
the  confused  mass  of  its  ruined  wall  to  place  about 
the  long  trench,  in  which  the  remains  were  laid, 


66  ROGER. 

when  moans,  like  some  one  in  pain,  were  heard  as 
if  issuing  from  the  earth. 

" '  The  mournful  scene  through  which  we  had 
just  passed  had  so  utterly  shocked  and  unnerved 
us,  that  it  is  little  wonder  we  felt  it  might  be  the 
spectres  of  the  victims  still  haunting  the  scene  of 
the  awful  tragedy  ;  but  a  moment's  reflection  set  us 
to  searching  among  the  ruins,  which  resulted  in 
our  finding  you,  wounded  and  delirious,  buried 
under  the  fallen  wall. 

" t  Several  large  stones  had  rested  against  the 
lower  part  of  the  wall,  and  thus,  in  a  providential 
manner,  shielded  you  from  the  avalanche  of  stone 
which  had  fallen  when  the  savages  had  thrown 
down  the  wall  by  prying  with  the  wTagon  tongues, 
that  were  still  lying  about  as  they  had  left  them. 

" '  We  placed  you  on  a  canvas  stretcher,  and  put 
you  in  one  of  my  wagons.  As  there  was  a  phy 
sician  in  our  train,  you  did  not  lack  for  medical 
attention ;  but  that  dreadful  gash  on  your  head  was 
very  slow  in  healing.  As  your  mind  was  completely 
shattered,  and  you  remained  delirious  all  the  long 
journey  to  Santa  Fe,  we  could  not  bear  the  thought 
of  leaving  you  there  among  strangers,  but  brought 
you  on  to  Los  Angeles  with  the  train/ 

" '  I  never  before  have  told  you,  Roger,  that 
there  was  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
in  gold  and  gems  with  our  train ;  but  such  was  the 
case ;'  and  as  he  sprang  up  in  amazement,  I  told 
him  briefly  the  history  of  Bruce  and  Ivarene,  and 
how  I  had  lost  my  fortune  of  fifty  thousand  dollars 


ROGEK.  67 

in  gold  with  that  of  my  dear  friends  on  that  night 
of  horror  and  despair. 

" '  It  is  needless  to  say/  replied  Boger,  '  that  no 
trace  of  the  treasure  was  found ;  but  it  seems  in 
credible  that  so  vast  a  sum  could  have  been  carried 
away  by  the  savages!  Did  you  have  any  liquor 
with  the  train  ?'  he  asked  in  a  thoughtful  manner. 

" '  Yes,  several  barrels  of  wine  and  brandy/  I 
answered. 

" '  Then  that  accounts  for  the  blood  on  the 
grass,  near  several  newly  made  graves  close  by. 
The  Indians  had  found  the  brandy,  no  do"ubt,  and 
the  massacre  ended  in  a  drunken  row  among  them 
selves,  in  which  several  of  them  had  died  a  violent 
death.  It  is  a  mystery,  though/  he  added,  ( how  a 
pack  of  drunken,  wrangling  savages  could  have 
divided  such  an  amount  of  coin  without  leaving 
some  trace.  And,  George,  I  would  advise  you  to 
make  a  systematic  search  on  your  return/  he  con 
tinued  ;  '  for  it  may  have  been  that  the  treasure  was 
buried  there.' ' 

"  Did  you  ever  make  the  search  ?"  asked  Clifford 
Warlow  of  his  father,  in  an  eager  tone. 

"  No ;  certainly  not/'  replied  the  colonel ;  "  it 
would  have  been  folly  to  suppose  that  the  band  of 
pilfering,  murderous  savages  would  have  left  any 
thing  valuable  behind." 

But  the  answer  did  not  satisfy  his  son,  who 
looked  out  toward  the  knoll  where  the  Old  Corral, 
with  its  broken  walls,  cast  long  shadows  in  the 
slanting  sunbeams;  and  as  the  colonel  proceeded 
with  his  story  it  was  noticed,  by  more  than  one  of 


68  ROGER. 

the  group,  that  Sabbath  afternoon,  that  Clifford  re 
mained  lost  in  thought,  and  his  eyes  roamed  from 
the  speaker  out  over  the  scene  of  that  tragedy  of 
bygone  years. 

"At  the  end  of  that  mournful  story,"  pursued 
the  colonel,  "  I  was  pressed  by  Roger  to  remain 
with  him  until  the  next  vessel  passed;  but  I  de 
clined,  thanking  him,  and  telling  him  that  Mary 
was  waiting  for  me  on  the  banks  of  the  Missouri, 
and  I  could  tarry  no  longer  than  a  few  brief  hours, 
until  the  craft  would  sail.  Then,  as  we  stood  on 
the  ship,  whither  he  had  accompanied  me,  I  told 
him  to  remain  in  the  cabin  for  a  moment  until  I 
could  return.  Then  going  to  the  captain,  I  asked 
him  for  the  money  which  I  had  deposited  with  him. 

"  The  fifty  thousand  dollars  was  carried  into  the 
room  where  Roger  was  waiting,  and  when  the 
sailors  had  retired,  I  said,  in  answer  to  his  look  of 
inquiry,  that  I  was  prepared  to  execute  the  com 
pact  wThich  we  entered  into  at  Los  Angeles,  to  be 
'pards/  and  divide  profit  and  loss;  and  I  tendered 
him  there  on  the  spot  twenty-five  thousand  dollars, 
which  was  one-half  of  my  savings  in  the  mines. 
Roger  would  not  hear  to  the  proposition ;  he  scouted 
the  idea  of  '  robbing  me  of  my  hard  earnings/  and 
all  my  pleadings  were  in  vain, — he  was  obdurate. 

"  I  reminded  him  how  I  owed  my  life  to  his 
care  and  kindness ;  but  my  entreaties  all  were  un 
availing,  as  he  would  only  ridicule  the  offer,  saying 
that  he  had  now  more  than  enough  for  an  old 
bachelor.  So  I  finally  desisted,  but  told  him  that 
should  he  ever  need  assistance  or  the  services  of  a 


THE    ISTHMUS   OF   PANAMA.  69 

friend,  to  call  on  me,  for  I  felt  a  debt  of  gratitude 
which  I  could  never  repay  him. 

"  I  smile  even  yet  to  think  how  I  blushed  when 
I  showed  him  Mary's  picture;  and  while  he  was 
looking  with  undisguised  admiration  at  the  minia 
ture  of  sister  Amy,  I  told  him  how  she  had  never 
ceased  to  regret  his  sad  fate,  and  that  in  her  last 
letter,  which  I  handed  him,  she  had  written  that 
she  still  vaguely  hoped  he  might  some  time  return ; 
that  he  may  have  escaped — '  such  things  sometimes 
do  occur — and  she  could  yet  thank  him  for  his  care 
and  tenderness  to  her  brother/  When  the  dear 
fellow  beamed  with  such  delight,  I  proceeded  to 
say  how  delighted  she  and  my  mother  would  be  to 
have  him  make  us  a  long  visit  soon,  which  he 
readily  promised  to  do  within  the  year.  As  he  still 
held  the  picture  of  my  beautiful  sister,  and  seemed 
so  reluctant  to  surrender  it,  I  ignored  it  entirely  or 
pretended  to  do  so,  and  as  we  proceeded  with  our 
talk,  I  saw,  with  half  an  eye,  that  he  furtively 
slipped  it  into  his  pocket,  at  which  I  was  so  grati 
fied,  I  had  to  pinch  myself  to  keep  from  dancing  a 
jig  of  delight. 

"  It  was  hard  indeed  to  part  with  Roger,  and 
not  before  he  again  promised  to  visit  me  within  a 
year  did  I  say  farewell ;  then  we  were  again  sailing 
out  on  our  homeward  voyage.  We  tarried  but  a 
short  time  on  the  Isthmus  of  Panama ;  for,  in  fact, 
I  had  but  an  indifferent  opinion  of  that  little  neck 
of  land,  made  up,  it  seemed,  of  snakes,  centipedes, 
and  bad  smells.  Whew !  it  makes  me  faint,  even 
yet,  to  remember  how  those  nasty,  vile,  old  swamps 


70  .     THE   ISTHMUS   OF   PANAMA. 

radiated  their  bad  odors!  There  had  just  been  an 
earthquake  to  roil  up  the  concentrated  filth  which 
was  packed  away  in  those  slimy  bayous,  and  as  every 
whiff  of  wind  came  loaded  with  its  own  peculiar 
stench,  the  variety  became  so  wearying  that  I  grew 
at  length  tired  of  the  '  nasal  panorama/  and  vainly 
yearned  for  the  friendly  precincts  of  a  glue  factory. 
"  It  always  seemed  to  me  that  Nature  had  aimed 
to  make  a  sea  of  the  isthmus,  but  had  taken  the 
flux  or  cholera,  and  left  her  work  but  half  com 
pleted." 


THE   TROPICAL  GROVES   OF   CUBA.  71 


Chapter  VI. 

COLONEL   \VARLOW'S    STORY  —  CONTINUED. 


ship  touched  at  Havana,  and  in  com- 
pany  with  several  other  passengers,  who 
lived  in  the  Mississippi  Valley,  I  decided  to  stop 
here  until  a  vessel  sailed  for  New  Orleans,  which 
would  not  occur  for  ten  days  yet  ;  but  years  might 
be  passed  in  that  beautiful  city  of  enchantment,  the 
'  Queen  of  the  Antilles,'  and  we  found  our  stay  one 
round  of  perpetual  delight. 

"A  day  was  devoted  to  a  sail  around  the  sunlit 
harbor,  environed  by  mansions,  castles,  and  palm- 
decked  hills  —  the  sapphire  sky  bounded  only  by  the 
purple  mountains  or  pale-green  sea.  Then  we  vis 
ited  Old  Moro  Castle,  its  portcullis,  donjon-keep, 
and  '  sounding  barbacan/  its  gloomy  grandeur  of 
turret  and  tower  — 

'Its  loop-holed  grates,  where  captives  weep,'  — 

all  recalling  the  feudal  days  of  Scotland  and  Spain. 
Next  we  drove  through  the  Prado  of  San  Isabel, 
with  its  triumphal  arches  of  snowy  marble,  its  rose- 
decked  alamedas  lined  with  palm,  cypress,  and  mag 
nolia,  its  clear  fountains  foaming  amid  thickets  of 
acacia  and  blooming  oleander;  and  then  on  to  the 
great  theater  of  Tacon,  where  the  evening  was 
passed  as  if  in  fairy-land. 

"  Christmas-day  we  drove  out  to  visit  a  coffee- 


72  THE   COFFEE-PLANTATION. 

plantation  a  dozen  miles  from  the  city  walls.  The 
dew  was  still  glittering  on  the  foliage  as  we  whirled 
rapidly  along  in  our  easy  volantas,  and  the  air  was 
rich  with  the  odor  of  orange-blossoms  and  a  myriad 
of  other  tropic  flowers.  We  halted  at  the  Bishop's 
Gardens  for  an  hour,  and  I  can  but  faintly  describe 
their  gorgeous  floral  wealth.  These  gardens  are 
centuries  old,  dating  back  to  the  days  of  Charles  V., 
wrhen  the  Spanish  banner  of  crimson  and  gold  waved 
around  the  world. 

"There  were  palm,  myrtle,  and  mangoe  trees 
growing  beside  canals  where  the  clear  rushing 
water  rippled  along  over  the  bottom  of  gaily- 
colored  tiles.  Then  there  were  plantations  of 
yucca,  the  broad-leaved  bread-fruit,  lemons,  guavas, 
and  figs,  with  great  basins  of  marble  brimming  with 
water,  on  which  floated  lilies  white  as  snow.  But, 
entrancing  as  were  those  avenues  of  whispering 
myrtle,  orange,  and  pine,  we  drove  on  through  the 
warm  sunlight  until  near  noon,  when  we  arrived  at 
our  destination. 

"The  coffee-plantation  contained  a  league  of 
land — three  miles  square — and  was  divided  into 
innumerable  plats  by  long  avenues  that  cut  each 
other  at  right  angles,  like  streets,  extending 
through  the  plantation.  These  avenues  were  lined 
on  either  side  by  palms  of  a  hundred  different  spe 
cies,  and  in  their  great  width  of  full  fifty  paces, 
and  three  miles  long,  they  were  set  in  Bermuda- 
grass,  mown  like  a  carpet  of  velvet.  The  squares, 
however,  were  carefully  cultivated,  and  no  weeds 
wrere  visible  in  the  red,  mellow  soil. 


%  A    BLOOMING   CHEISTMAS.  73 

"Next  to  the  row  of  palms  grew  a  line  of 
orange-trees;  then  lemons,  almonds,  pomegranates, 
and  olives,  followed  by  a  row  of  evergreens  of  in 
finite  variety,  the  remainder  of  the  square  being 
planted  to  coffee-trees. 

"  It  was  a  sight  never  to  be  forgotten  that  un 
folded  to  our  view  as  we  drove  down  one  of  those 
long  colonnades  of  palm,  over  which  the  parasites 
trailed,  linking  tree  to  tree  with  garlands  of  scar 
let,  rose,  and  golden  blossoms — the  snowy  orange- 
flowers  contrasting  with  its  coppery  fruit — gloomy 
pine,  spruce,  and  cypress,  with  glimpses  between  of 
the  coffee-trees  loaded  with  their  crimson  berries. 

"  Thousands  of  birds  flitted  about,  lending  ani 
mation  to  the  gorgeous  tropical  scene, — gaudy  par 
rots,  white  doves,  orioles,  and  blue-birds;  while 
myriads  of  humming-birds  of  rose  and  emerald, 
gold  and  purple,  wrove  and  flashed  among  the  trees. 

"  We,  who  live  in  these  dull  northern  climes, 
can  not  fancy  the  pictures  of  life  and  color  that 
adorn  the  forests  of  tropical  America;  but  as  I  sac 
that  Christmas-day  amid  the  Cuban  groves,  and  ate 
the  most  luscious  fruits,  fresh  from  the  tree,  the 
glorious  sunlight  sifting  down  through  the  feathery, 
fern-like  palm-leaves,  and  over  all  the  cloudless 
blue  of  the  southern  skies,  I  thought  of  the  snow 
and  ice  which  wrapped  the  hills  and  meadows  of 
my  northern  home.  But  a  feeling  of  longing  stole 
over  me  for  the  brooks,  bound  by  their  crystal  fet 
ters  and  sheltered  by  the  oak-clad  hills,  the  merry 
jingling  sleigh-bells  in  the  frosty  air,  and,  amid 
all  this  wealth  of  bloom  and  tropic  life,  my  heart 

7 


74  THE   TOMB   OF   COLUMBUS. 

turned  back  to  the  memory  of  rustic  joys  in  my 
boyhood's  home, — the  roaring  fire  on  the  hearth 
stone,  when  the  frost-rime  crept  over  the  window- 
pane;  the  rushing  of  the  storm-king,  as  he  piled 
the  ghostly  drift  without,  or  fled  shrieking  by, 
shaking  the  gables  in  his  wild  wrath.  Then  fancy 
came  thronging  on  with  dear  faces  of  the  home- 
folk  that  I  had  not  seen  for  years;  and  when  I 
awoke,  with  a  start,  to  the  thought  that  the  ocean 
rolled  between  me  and  my  distant  home,  do  not 
blame  me  that  a  tear-drop  went  trickling  down 
through  the  sunlight  of  that  foreign  tropic  land. 

" After  loitering  for  a  few  hours  among  the 
coffee-trees,  we  ascended  a  mountain  to  drink  of  the 
waters  of  a  famous  mineral  spring,  which  gushes 
from  among  the  lofty  cliffs;  and  as  I  stood  on  the 
verge  of  a  precipice,  before  me  there  spread  a  land 
scape  of  matchless  grandeur, — the  wide  savannas 
with  their  fields  of  cane,  tobacco,  and  fruit,  the  dim 
city,  begirt  with  its  walls  and  grim  fortresses,  and 
the  blue  harbor,  crowded  with  the  ships  of  all  na 
tions  ;  while  far  away  to  the  north,  stretching  out, 
it  seemed,  to  eternity,  lay  the  trackless  ocean,  dotted 
with  white  winged  ships  and  those  gem-like  islands, 
1  The  Queen's  Gardens.' 

"  Driving  back  to  the  city,  we  paid  a  moonlight 
visit  to  the  tomb  of  Columbus.  I  stood  long  and 
silently  by  the  urn  where  rests  all  that  remains  of 
the  Great  Mariner — all  save  the  Columbian  spirit, 
which  wrill  pervade  the  people  of  America  as  long 
as  this  continent  endures. 

"  Yes ;    you  and   I   are  actuated   by   the   same 


HOSES   AND   PASSION-FLOWERS.  75 

spirit  that  guided  the  illustrious  pioneers  out  to 
ward  the  setting  sun — enterprise,  ambition,  and 
energy.  As  I  noted  the^  humble  monument,  I 
bitterly  recalled  the  ingratitude  and  perfidy  of 
Spain ;  but  when  there  rose  to  my  mind  a  vision 
of  the  grand  and  powerful  nations,  the  splendid 
cities  and  happy  homes  of  the  thronging  millions 
from  Montreal  to  Buenos  Ayres, — these,  I  mused, 
are  the  monuments  befitting  the  noble  hero,  and  it 
matters  not  that  the  lowly  urn  in  the  old  cathedral 
holds  the  ashes  of  mortality. 

"  Coming  forth  into  the  mellow  moonlight,  I 
paused  a  moment  to  gather  a  spray  from  the  roses 
and  passion-flowers,  blooming  in  dew-drenched 
clusters  amid  the  orange  and  myrtle  of  the  Paseo 
hard  by;  and  as  I  stood  drinking,  as  it  were,  the 
odors  of  that  perfume-laden  air,  afar  off  could  be 
heard  the  sullen  boom  of  the  breakers  as  the  sea 
broke  in  thunder  on  the  walls  of  Moro  Castle, 
while  the  faint,  sweet  notes  of  a  guitar  floated  out 
upon  the  night,  mingling  with  the  diapason  of  old 
ocean's  roar  as  it  chanted  its  hymn  of  eternity  on. 
the  rocky  beach. 

"Two  weeks  later  I  drove  up  to  my  father's 
gate,  through  the  snow  and  ice  of  a  Northern 
winter.  The  white  drift  wrapped  the  hills  and 
meadows,  and  the  gurgle  of  the  brook  in  the  shel 
tered  valley  sang  faint  and  muffled  within  its  crystal 
prison ;  the  dear  old  cedars  bent  low  under  their 
white  burden,  and  from  the  eaves  of  the  time-worn, 
red  brick  homestead,  the  icicles  hung  glittering  like 
spears  in  the  frosty  light. 


76       SUCH   A   DAY   CAN   NEVER   COME   AGAIN. 

"  When  I  left  home  four  years  before,  I  was 
a  smooth-faced  boy  of  twenty,  but  while  in  the 
mines  I  had  grown  a  beard  like  a  Turk;  and  al 
though  in  San  Francisco  I  had  passed  under  the 
sway  of  the  barber,  who  despoiled  me  of  more  locks 
than  Samson  ever  lost,  yet  enough  remained  to 
complete  my  disguise;  and  I  was  smiling  at  the 
surprise  1  had  in  store  for  the  home-folks,  when 
the  door  opened,  and  lo !  Amy  came  flying  down 
the  path  with  such  an  outcry  that  all  the  family 
came  rushing  upon  the  scene,  Amy  saying,  between 
smiles  and  tears: — 

" '  Oh,  George,  you  thought  we  would  n't  know 
you;  but  I  was  watching,  and  when  you  paused  at 
the  gate  and  looked  so  wistfully  towards  the  house, 
I  knew — oh,  it  must  be  you  I' 

"Ah  well — such  a  day  will  never  come  again ! 
How  I  followed  mother  and  Amy  about,  or  sat  in 
the  kitchen  with  father  on  one  hand  and  Dick  on 
the  other — all  of  us  talking  at  once  !  Such  a  home 
coming  is  known  in  all  of  its  keen  delight  by  only 
the  long-absent  miner  or  returning  soldier.  And 
the  dinner  which  followed,  where  all  the  culinary 
treasures  of  earth,  sky,  land,  and  sea  were  laid 
under  contribution,  was  a  meal  which  caused  me  to 
say  they  certainly  meant  to  stuff  me  as  a  curiosity, 
after  the  manner  of  a  taxidermist. 

" '  There  must  be  some  means  devised  to  keep 
you  at  home  hereafter/  replied  my  mother. 

"  I  said  I  was  through  with  rambling ;  for  I 
had  brought  enough  money  home  for  the  whole 
family — unless  we  indulged  in  such  dinners  every  day. 


SNOW-DRIFTS,  SLEIGH-BELLS,  SWEETHEARTS.      77 

"  Dick  replied  with  a  laugh  that  '  wealthy  peo 
ple  could  certainly  afford  salt  for  the  potatoes/ 

"'Oh,  that  is  not  a  luxury,  for  I  find  it  in  both 
the  fruit  and  coffee/  replied  my  father. 

"  In  the  evening  I  took  Dick's  grays  and  sleigh 
to  drive  over  to  Mary's  home,  and  at  starting  was 
charged  by  Amy  to  be  sure  and  bring  Mary  over  to  the 
1  wool-picking '  at  Widow  Hawley's — a  semi-festive 
meeting  of  the  best  society  in  that  primitive  but 
happy  neighborhood.  Promising  to  do  my  best  to 
meet  Dick  and  her  that  evening  at  the  designated 
place  of  festivity,  I  touched  the  horses,  and  shot 
down  the  drive  just  in  time  to  dodge  the  slipper, 
which,  with  a  gay  laugh,  she  hurled  at  my  back ; 
and  as  I  rounded  the  curve  of  the  stone  wall  into 
the  highway,  she  and  Dick  cheered  me  very  en 
couragingly. 

"As  I  drove  along  the  sparkling,  crusted  road, 
the  west  was  still  blushing  faintly,  and  the  moon 
peeped  through  the  snowy  tree- tops,  that  drooped 
in  feathery  sprays  of  frost  and  ice,  sweeping  the 
drifts  below  with  their  creaking,  rattling  branches, 
and  the  stars  winked  knowingly  in  the  clear,  cold 
sky  as  my  sleigh-bells  awoke  the  jingling  echoes 
among  the  well-remembered  hills  that  flanked  the 
valley  on  either  side. 

"  When  I  reached  the  door  of  Mary's  dwelling 
the  windows  threw  out  a  ruddy  light  from  the  great 
fire-place,  where  the  flames  leaped  and  crackled,  and 
showers  of  sparks  flashed  up  the  wide  chimney, 
while  back  and  forth  in  the  flickering  light  tripped 
Mary,  singing  as  she  spun  on  the  roaring  wheel. 


78 

"At  my  rap  the  wheel  ceased  its  hum,  a  light 
footfall  was  heard,  and — well,  I  '11  just  close  the 
door,  as  it  was  only  a  private  matter — but  in  a 
moment  I  was  kissing  her  mother,  who  hugged  me 
almost  as  hard — that  is,  she  and  the  old  gentleman 
did — no — no — I  mean  to  say  that  Towser  and  all 
the  rest  of  the —  There — there  I  go  again  " — said 
the  colonel,  joining  in  the  merriment  of  his  hearers, 
who  were  shouting  with  laughter  at  the  absurd 
flounders  of  the  colonel's  narrative ;  but  when  the 
last  giggle  of  Grace  and  Rob  had  subsided,  and 
cries  of  "  hear,  hear,"  resounded  on  every  hand, 
then  our  friend  Warlow  resumed,  as  he  cast  a  fond 
look  toward  his  wife,  who  had  been  busy  at  the 
camp-fire  preparing  the  evening  meal  while  the 
shades  of  twilight  were  thickening  among  the  trees. 

"  I  only  wished  to  say  that  I  was  highly  gratified 
with  my  reception  on  that  happy  evening,  and  Mary 
and  I  were  soon  on  the  road  to  the  residence  of 
Mrs.  Hawley,  where  we  found  a  merry  throng  of 
old  friends;  and,  after  such  a  greeting  as  only  one 
who  meets  his  childhood's  friends  after  long  years 
of  absence  can  appreciate,  we  were  allotted  a  quiet 
corner,  and  our  share  of  the  evening's  labor." 

At  this  moment  a  summons  to  supper  was 
heard,  and  the  party  adjourned  to  the  camp-fire,  to 
discuss  the  savory  prairie-chicken  and  quail  on 
toast,  with  which  Mrs.  Warlow  celebrated  the  close 
of  that  Sabbath-day. 


THE   WOOL-PICKING.  79 


Chapter  VII. 

COLON  KL  ^?W^RLOW'S  STORY— CONCLUDED. 

AN  hour  later  the  party  sat  under  the  drooping 
boughs  of  an  elm,  near  thickets  of  snowy  elder 
and  blooming  wild-roses,  which  filled  all  the  air 
with  their  delicious  fragrance ;  the  shallow  stream 
murmured  and  gurgled  along  between  its  willow- 
fringed  banks,  glimmering  like  silver  under  the 
beams  of  the  rising  moon. 

At  the  request  of  the  group,  the  colonel  re 
sumed,  as  follows : — 

"  When  the  wool  had  been  allotted  to  the  cap 
tains,  in  equal  proportions,  the  leaders  divided  the 
company  in  two  parties.  It  was  understood  that 
the  side  first  finishing  its  task  of  picking  the  burrs 
and  other  foreign  matter  from  the  fleeces  of  wool, 
should  crown  its  captain  and  carry  her  in  triumph 
around  the  room  on  a  chair;  then  she  should  be 
awarded  the  honor  of  opening  the  ball,  which  was 
to  follow  in  the  wide  kitchen. 

"  Mary  and  I  were  the  last  to  finish,  but  were 
helped  through  our  task  by  several  smiling  friends. 
Then  our  captain — wild,  saucy  Peg  Sickle — bounded 
up  with  the  cry,  '  Crown  the  captain  P  which  was 
re-echoed  by  her  noisy  followers,  who  proceeded, 
with  ludicrous  ceremony,  to  carry  the  order  into 
execution. 


80  THE   WOOL-PICKING. 

"The  violins  struck  up  a  lively  air,  and  the 
gay  Peg,  wearing  her  towering  head-dress  of  wool, 
led  off  in  the  inspiriting  quadrille;  but  the  lively 
dance  was  watched  ruefully  through  the  open  door 
way  by  the  other  party,  who  still  were  at  their  un 
finished  task;  but  our  hilarity  was  interrupted  by 
cries  of — 

"  '  Fraud  ! — Shame  ! — Peggy  has  been  hiding  the 
fleece!' 

"  It  transpired  that  the  treacherous  Peg  had 
concealed  nearly  half  the  wool  allotted  to  our  party, 
and  it  had  been  discovered,  in  its  hiding-place, 
under  the  bed ;  so  poor  Peg  was  dragged  ignomin- 
iously  from  the  unfinished  set,  and  made  to  abdicate 
her  woolly  crown,  which  was  quickly  replaced  by  a 
diadem  of  cockle-burrs,  with  which  her  irate  foes 
decked  her  brow,  with  the  taunting  reminder  that 
'  uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown.' 

"  We  slunk  back  to  our  unfinished  task,  as  our 
opponents  finished  theirs,  and  re-enacted  the  mum 
mery  ;  but  we  toiled  faithfully,  notwithstanding  their 
jeers,  and  soon  were  allowed  to  join  the  revelers. 

"  I  noticed,  with  gratification,  that  Amy  appeared 
'to  still  be  heart-free;  and  as  we  were  dancing  to 
gether,  later  in  the  evening,  I  told  her  of  finding 
Roger  at  Acapulco,  and  when  she  almost  cried  with 
delight  at  his  escape,  I  began  at  once  to  build  '  cas 
tles  in  Spain/  but  prudently  omitted  mentioning  the 
incident  of  the  picture. 

"  Dancing  and  singing  continued  until  a  late 
hour,  relieved,  however,  by  huge  baskets  of  hickory- 
nuts  and  apples,  with  supplementary  pitchers  of 


THE  SQUIRE'S  HARROW.  81 

cider.  Of  that  ride  home  through  the  moon 
light  I'll  say  nothing,  in  deference  to  that  lady  by 
the  camp-fire  yonder ;  but  suffice  it  that  she  was 
the  heroine  of  that  very  happy  occasion,  and  the 
10th  of  May  was  set  for  our  wedding,  which,  in 
view  of  my  four  years'  probation,  I  thought  an  age 
to  wait. 

"Next  day  I  bought  the  ' Nolan  farm/  which 
was  only  three  miles  from  Mary's  home,  and  at 
once  proceeded  to  put  the  place  in  thorough  repair. 
The  premises  were  rather  tumble-down,  and  '  the 
bildin's  a  leetle  shackelty,'  as  the  fox-hunting  squire 
remarked ;  but  I  put  such  a  force  of  workmen  on 
the  old  stone  house  and  broken-backed  barn  that 
the  place  was  soon  completely  transformed. 

"  The  fences  were  the  most  demoralized  and  di 
lapidated  that  I  have  ever  beheld.  In  fact,  brother 
Dick  asserted  that  the  (  Nolan  boys,  Bill  and  Ike, 
were  never  known  to  open  a  gap/  but  rode  their 
horses  at  the  rail-fence,  knocking  it  down  for  rods; 
then  half  of  the  next  day  would  be  devoted  to  re 
pairing  the  un picturesque  nuisance — said  repairs 
consisting  of  a  load  of  brush,  dumped  where  the 
festive  youths  had  make  the  floundering  leap. 

"  Often  I  would  come  upon  an  unsightly  place 
in  the  fields — the  squire's  '  harrer/  a  great  thorn- 
bush,  spiked  to  the  earth  with  brambles  and  thistle — 
and  I  would  smile  at  the  vision  of  the  sport-loving 
farmer  unhitching  his  team  amid-field  to  chase  the 
venturesome  coon  or  stiff-legged  deer  that  had 
caught  his  roving  eye. 

"My  carpenters  were  finishing  a  stile  and  two 
8 


82  WEDDING   BELLS. 

large  gates  in  front  of  the  house,  which  was  tempo 
rarily  occupied  by  its  former  owner,  when  Master 
Dave  Nolan,  a  scion  of  the  old  stock,  came  upon  the 
scene.  He  viewed  the  improvements  with  great 
displeasure,  and,  crawling  under  one  of  the  large 
gates,  he  said,  as  he  wriggled  out,  lizard  style: — 

" '  Gates  is  all  nonsense ;  aint  half  as  handy  as 
a  gap  in  the  fence  and  a  slick  rail !' 

"The  10th  of  May  found  the  house  thoroughly 
renovated  and  furnished  newly  throughout ;  so,  after 
the  wedding  ceremony,  when  we  had  discussed  the 
dinner,  Mary  and  I  took  a  '  bridal  tour7  by  going  to 
our  new  home,  and  in  the  evening  our  neighbors  and 
relatives  gathered  in  to  give  us  a  house-warming. 

"  Soon  after,  I  wrote  Roger  an  invitation  to 
spend  the  summer  with  us,  Mary  and  Amy  adding 
a  feminine  postscript,  in  which  they  expressed  their 
valuation  of  one  who  had  proved  so  noble  a  friend 
in  my  distress,  and  earnestly  begging  him  to  give 
them  an  opportunity  of  thanking  him  personally. 

"  To  which  he  responded  that  he  would  ( do  him 
self  the  honor'  of  payirg  his  respects  in  person  the 
following  July — a  visit  which  terminated  in  a  wed 
ding  between  my  old  friend  and  sister  Amy.  On 
their  bridal  day  I  gave  them  the  deed  to  the  Maple 
Dale  plantation,  which  adjoined  our  own,  and  as  I 
handed  the  astonished  pair  the  papers  I  remarked 
that  it  was  in  fulfillment  of  the  contract  which 
Roger  and  I  had  made  at  Los  Angeles,  and  they 
might  charge  it  to  '  Profit  and  Loss.' 

"  The  newly-wedded  pair  left  the  plantation  in 
charge  of  an  overseer,  and  returned  to  Acapulco; 


PEOFIT   AND    LOSS.  83 

but  Roger  resigned  his  position  after  a  few  months, 
and  returned  home  to  the  quiet  life  of  a  planter. 

"  We  enjoyed  a  long  period  of  uninterrupted 
prosperity ;  but  when  the  War  of  the  Rebellion 
began,  I  raised  a  company  and  joined  the  Southern 
army.  At  the  close  of  that  terrible  conflict  all  that 
was  left  me  was  my  title  and  family,  with  the  wreck 
of  my  once  comfortable  fortune. 

"I  shall  hurry  over  the  history  of  the  struggling 
years  that  followed;  how  on  returning  from  the  war 
I  found  Mary  and  the  children  had  fled  to  the  city, 
and  how  I  gathered  them  once  more  together  on 
the  farm,  where  the  dear  old  homestead  lay,  a  black 
ened  ruin.  But  earnestly  we  tried  to  retrieve  the 
lost  years. 

"The  county  in  which  I  lived  was  { recon 
structed/  and  from  the  bonds  issued  by  the  officers, 
and  the  taxes  levied  to  run  the  costly,  corrupt  ma 
chine,  there  followed  wide-spread  financial  distress. 

"A  treasurer  had  been  appointed  to  finger  our 
money.  He  was  a  hawk-nosed,  black-haired  little 
reprobate,  named  Toler,  and  the  way  he  tolled  all 
the  grists  which  came  to  his  tax-mill  led  us  to  be 
lieve  that  he  was  well  named  indeed.  It  was 
reported  that  he  had  once  held  the  post  of  sutler  in 
a  regiment  of  Eastern  troops.  Whether  that  was 
true  or  not,  he  was  undoubtedly  the  most  subtle 
villain  that  ever  sold  scabby  sheep  or  slipped  a  flag 
stone  into  a  sack  of  bacon.  Finally,  this  '  patriotic ' 
officer,  having  stuffed  his  'grip-sack'  with  county 
funds,  one  dark  night  took  an  excursion  for  his 
health,  considerately  leaving  the  county,  which  he 


84  PROFIT  AND   LOSS. 

only  refrained  from  stealing  from  the  fact   that   it 
was  not  portable. 

"  The  reckless  extravagance  of  that  class  of  men, 
cursed  and  abhorred  by  both  parties,  led  eventually 
to  wide-spread  ruin  and  bankruptcy;  but  out  of  the 
wreck  of  my  once  comfortable  fortune  I  saved  a 
few  thousands,  and,  hearing  favorable  reports  from 
the  fertile  Kansas  prairies,  we  turned  our  steps 
westward  toward  the  setting  sun.  Fate  seemed  to 
lead  me  here;  so  I  will  begin  the  life-struggle  over 
again  on  the  spot  where  I  lost  my  friends  and  the 
gold  doubloons  here,  near  the  shadows  of  the  Old 
Stone-Corral." 

When  the  colonel  had  finished  the  long  and 
eventful  history  of  his  past  life,  a  silence  fell  on  the 
group — a  silence  tinged  with  sadness  as  they  thought 
of  the  fate  of  Walraven  and  his  wife ;  and  as  the 
camp-fire  mingled  its  flickering  light  with  the  pale 
moonbeams,  throwing  an  uncertain,  wavering  shim 
mer  over  the  tangled  vines  and  milk-white  elder- 
blooms,  a  sense  of  their  lone,  isolated  position  slowly 
dawned  upon  them.  They  were  far  out  on  the 
verge  of  an  untried,  mysterious  land,  no  evidences 
of  civilization  for  miles  around,  and  all  the  future, 
with  its  trials  and  struggles,  looming  grimly  on  the 
morrow.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  a  feeling  of  dread, 
awe,  and  fear  stole  over  the  stoutest  heart  at  the 
thought  of  the  direful,  tragic  past  haunting  the 
spot  with  its  painful  memories,  and  the  black  veil 
of  futurity  hovering  over  them — hiding  the  joys 
and  fears,  the  tears  and  graves,  that  lay  beyond  ? 


THE   SPECTRE   OF   THE   STONE   CORRAL.          85 

The  colonel  sat  gazing,  sad  and  thoughtful,  out 
toward  the  knoll,  where,  resting  in  the  moonlight, 
the  victims  of  that  horrible  tragedy  now  slept  their 
sleep  of  eternity  in  the  lone,  grassy  grave. 

The  winds  whispered  softly  among  the  trees;  a 
song-bird  twittered  drowsily  in  its  nest;  then  a 
long,  mournful  howl  from  a  wolf  on  the  distant 
hills  broke  the  silence  of  the  summer  night.  Maud, 
looking  wistfully  out  to  the  west,  where  the  great 
planets,  those  mute  sentinels  of  time,  kept  their 
watch  in  the  sky,  repeated  the  sweet,  pathetic 
u  Dirge  "  of  Tennyson  : — 

"  Round  thee  blow,  self  pleached  deep, 
Bramble-roses,  faint  and  pale, 
And  long  purples  of  the  dale, — 

Let  them  rave ; 
These  in  every  shower  creep 
Through  the  green  that  folds  thygrave. 
Let  them  rave. 

Chanteth  not  the  brooding  bee 
Sweeter  tones  than  calumny?" 

A  wild  cry  from  Mrs.  Moreland  startled  the 
group  from  their  reverie  and  broke  in  abruptly 
upon  their  musing.  As  they  lifted  their  eyes  or 
sprang  to  their  feet  in  dismay,  she  pointed,  with 
trembling  finger,  to  where  the  uncertain  moonlight 
flickered  through  the  willows,  and  there  they  beheld 
a  sigbt  which  froze  them  with  horror,  and  haunted 
them  with  its  mystery  for  long  months  thereafter. 

But  a  few  paces  from  where  they  sat  stood  the 
form  of  a  strange,  gray  figure,  in  a  loose,  long  robe, 
its  locks  and  flowing  beard  of  snowy  white,  its 


86          THE  SPECTRE  OF  THE  STONE  CORRAL. 

wildly  gleaming  eyes  and  snaggled  fangs,  showing 
dimly  in  the  spectral  light.  With  a  long,  bony 
finger  pointed  at  the  group,  the  figure  stood  for  a 
brief  moment;  then,  with  a  blood-chilling  scream, 
it  faded  away  amid  the  shadows. 

Clifford  Warlow  and  Ralph  Moreland  sprang 
after  the  vanishing  figure,  unheeding  the  wild 
shrieks  of  Maud  and  Grace,  who  begged  them  not 
to  follow  the  frightful  apparition.  As  the  young 
men  disappeared  among  the  trees,  Mrs.  Warlow  fell 
prone  upon  the  earth  with  a  low  moan ;  and  while 
all  of  the  party  that  remained  forgot  their  terror  in 
their  efforts  to  restore  her  from  the  death-like 
swoon  in  which  she  had  fallen,  the  young  men 
returned,  reporting  a  fruitless  search. 

It  was  now  proposed,  as  Mrs.  Warlow  had  re 
vived,  that  the  boys — Clifford,  Ralph,  Scott,  and 
Robbie — should  make  a  more  extended  search  with 
the  three  dogs;  but  they  could  not  force  the  terror- 
stricken  animals  to  leave  the  camp-fire,  where  they 
cowered  trembling  with  fear.  So  the  search  again 
proved  unavailing. 


THE   MONOTONY   OF   FRONTIER   LIFE.  87 


Chapter  VIII. 

THOSE  were  busy  days  which  followed — days  all 
too  short  for  the  years  of  labor  that  loomed  so 
drearily  before  the  pioneers;  but  they  set  to  work 
bravely,  plowing,  building,  and  planning,  and  the 
manifold  cares  of  their  new,  strange  life  left  no 
time  for  repining  over  the  events  of  the  past,  or 
even  to  investigate  the  nature  of  that  strange 
visitant  which  had  so  startled  them  with  its  fleeting 
appearance. 

Although  a  hurried  search  was  made  near  the 
Old  Corral,  no  trace  of  the  lost  treasure  could  be 
discovered;  and  whenever  the  subject  was  men 
tioned,  or  the  hope  expressed  of  the  ultimate  re 
covery  of  the  princely  treasure,  the  colonel  would 
discourage  it  as  delusive  and  visionary,  and  would 
say  that  the  surest  way  to  recover  the  lost  fortune 
was  to  extract  the  gold  from  the  soil  through  the 
medium  of  the  plow  and  an  application  of  good 
"  horse  sense  "  to  their  farming. 

Several  masons  were  employed  from  the  nearest 
town,  forty  miles  distant,  and,  after  tearing  down 
the  walls  of  the  Old  Corral,  the  stone  was  utilized 
in  building,  first,  a  dwelling  for  Colonel  Warlow  in 
the  grove  in  the  river's  bend ;  next,  a  cottage  for 
Clifford  on  the  site  of  the  old  stronghold,  which  had 
been  entirely  obliterated,  save  that  portion  which 
had  fallen  over  Colonel  Warlow  years  ago,  and 


88  NEW   HOMES. 

which  had  so  providentially  shielded  him  from 
death.  The  entire  party  had  decided  that  it  should 
remain  as  a  monument  of  the  past,  and  accordingly 
the  stones  which  had  been  hurled  down  by  the 
drunken  fury  of  the  Indians,  were  replaced  care 
fully;  so  the  wall  now  appeared  as  it  did  a  quarter 
of  a  century  before,  on  the  night  of  that  terrible 
tragedy. 

Squire  Moreland  and  his  son  Ralph  also  built, 
from  the  same  confused  stone-heap,  comfortable 
dwellings  a  mile  down  the  valley,  but  situated  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river  from  the  Warlows; 
and,  as  all  of  the  buildings  were  located  near 
natural  timber,  they  presented  a  very  home-like 
appearance  when  completed. 

But  during  all  the  while  the  plows  were  kept 
busily  turning  the  fertile  valley  sod,  which  was 
planted  in  corn  and  millet,  thus  providing  feed  for 
the  stock  the  ensuing  winter. 

Yet  it  must  not* be  supposed  by  the  reader  that 
incessant  toil  alone  occupied  the  time  of  the  settlers, 
to  the  exclusion  of  all  pleasure;  for  many  were  the 
pleasant  fishing  parties  and  excursions  to  the  Sand 
Hills,  far  off  to  the  north-west,  where  the  delicious 
sand-plums  crimsoned  the  low  shrubs  which  clothed 
the  hills,  relieving,  on  these  occasions,  their  life  of 
monotony. 

An  occasional  antelope-hunt  on  the  Flats  to  the 
south  was  indulged  in  by  the  sporting  members  of 
the  colony,  varied  by  the  excitement  of  a  wolf-chase 
or  the  sight  of  a  stray  buffalo. 

Then  the  ceaseless  tide  of  travel  on  the  Santa  Fe 


VOTING   BONDS.  89 

Trail,  thronging  with  settlers  bound  for  the  rich 
prairies  to  the  south,  was  in  itself  a  link  to  the  past 
and  an  endless  source  of  interest  to  the  colonists. 

One  of  the  first  moves  of  the  Warlow  and  More- 
land  families  was  to  organize  a  school  district,  a 
proceeding  which  is  never  omitted  by  the  first 
settler  of  the  western  prairies,  who,  the  very  day  he 
"  files,"  begins  planning  more  or  less  secretly,  to  se 
cure  the  location  of  a  school-house  on  his  "  claim." 

So,  according  to  pioneer  traditions,  the  district 
was  organized,  consisting  of  a  territory  ten  miles 
square,  and  a  meeting  was  called  at  the  house  of 
Colonel  Warlow,  at  which  assemblage  of  the  settlers 
it  was  decided  "  to  vote  bonds  to  build  a  school- 
house  immediately." 

All  the  voters  present  agreed,  with  perfect 
unanimity,  that  "bonding"  was  the  only  feasible 
method  of  accomplishing  the  object  which  they  had 
in  view ;  but  when  it  came  to  specifying  the  time 
for  which  the  bonds  were  to  run,  or,  in  other  words, 
were  to  mature,  then  a  stormy  scene  ensued,  and 
with  varying  degrees  of  eloquence  the  subject  was 
hotly  discussed  by  the  local  orators. 

It  was  proposed  by  one  embryo  politician — 
whose  speeches  were  said  by  Eobbie  to  be  longer 
than  his  furrows — "  that  the  bonds  be  made  payable 
in  one  year,"  in  which  event  the  entire  amount  would 
have  to  be  met  by  a  direct  tax  on  all  the  assessi- 
ble  property  in  the  district ;  and  as  the  lands  of  the 
settlers  would  not  be  subject  to  taxation  for  the 
period  of  the  next  five  years,  the  burden  would  fall 
upon  the  railroad  land,  which  constituted  one-half 


90  VOTING   BONDS. 

of  all  the  territory  embraced  within  the  limits  of 
the  district ;  and  the  aforementioned  "  political 
economist "  proceeded  to  demonstrate  to  his  hearers 
the  beauty  and  fitness  (?)  of  making  a  company  of 
friendly  capitalists,  who  lived,  as  he  averred,  over  in 
New  England,  not  only  pay  the  two  thousand  dollars 
which  was  to  build  their  school-house,  but,  in  ad 
dition  to  this,  be  taxed  to  maintain  the  school  for 
the  next  five  years ;  and  he  closed  his  brilliant  per 
oration  by  asserting  "  that  his  policy  was  to  make 
all  bloated  bondholders  and  corporation  scamps 
squeal  when  he  had  the  chaince" 

The  squire  and  colonel  both  opposed  the  measure, 
the  latter  replying  in  a  speech  of  some  length,  in 
which  he  vigorously  attacked  the  principles  advo 
cated  by  the  "  chaince  orator"  saying  that  it  would 
be  both  immoral  and  unwise  to  take  such  a  rascally 
advantage  of  a  company  that  were  doing  so  much 
to  help  the  State  and  develop  its  resources.  Then 
he  warned  his  hearers  of  the  consequences  of  so 
unjust  a  course,  telling  them  plainly  it  was  little 
better  than  highway  robbery,  and  the  railroad  com 
pany  would  retaliate  by  raising  the  rates  of  ship 
ping,  whereby  all  would  suffer  alike. 

But  his  appeal  was  disregarded  by  the  rampant 
majority,  and,  although  he  pleaded  with  the  audience 
to  make  the  bonds  payable  in  thirty  years,  which, 
he  said,  was  but  equitable,  the  motion  to  make 
the  bonds  payable  in  one  year  was  sustained,  and 
one  ardent  supporter  of  that  iniquitous  measure,  a 
man  in-  a  coon-skin  cap,  was  heard  to  remark,  as  he 
mounted  his  mule,  which  had  one  crank  leg : — 


GRASSHOPPERS.  91 

"  Good  enough  fur  them  railroad  fellers ;  they 
just  haint  got  no  business  a-comin'  out  hyur  with 
their  bulljine  a-spilin'  of  our  freightin'." 

Although  the  free  discussion  at  the  meeting  led 
to  a  feeling  of  animosity,  the  work  of  building  was 
begun  and  rapidly  pushed  forward  to  completion, 
soon  as  the  bonds  which  had  been  voted  for  the 
purpose  could  be  disposed  of  to  those  same  "  bloated 
bondholders "  of  the  East,  and  by  the  middle  of 
August,  the  large  stone  school-house,  with  a  bell- 
tower  and  rose  window,  crowned  a  knoll  just  across 
the  river  from  the  Old  Corral. 

THE  GEASSHOPPEE  EAID. 

A  short  time  after  the  day  on  which  the  new 
school-house  had  been  dedicated  by  a  public  dinner, 
in  which  all  the  colonists  participated,  a  peculiar 
haziness  was  noticed  in  the  air,  and,  or.  looking  up 
at  the  sun,  swarms  of  gauzy-winged  insects  were 
seen  floating  southward  on  the  light  breeze;  but 
they  were  too  high  for  Clifford  and  Rob — who 
stood  in  the  barn-yard  wondering  what  they  were — 
to  conjecture  the  terrible  import  of  the  phenomenon. 

Thicker  and  more  dense  became  the  haze,  now 
almost  obscuring  the  sun,  or  again  thinning  out  to 
a  silvery  mist,  which  quickly  changed  to  fleecy 
clouds  again,  drifting  overhead  like  the  scud  of  a 
summer  storm. 

Mrs.  Warlow,  who  stood  on  the  latticed  balcony 
that  ran  along  the  eastern  front  of  the  dwelling,  and 
on  which  there  opened  glass  doors,  instead  of  win 
dows,  from  the  long  range  of  dormer  gables  in  the 


92  GRASSHOPPERS. 

upper  story  of  that  picturesque  homestead,  was  look 
ing  out  to  the  north,  and  as  she  saw  a  dark,  strange 
cloud  quickly  rising,  she  called  to  the  boys  to  come 
in  at  once  as  a  storm  was  almost  upon  them. 

As  the  boys  glanced  out  towards  the  north-west 
they  could  see  the  unnatural,  black  cloud  stretching 
across  the  northern  horizon,  but  momentarily  growing 
nearer,  like  a  dense  shadow  on  a  summer  landscape. 

Their  father,  who  had  been  reading  on  the  porch, 
laid  aside  his  paper  on  hearing  the  unusual  com 
motion,  and  stepped  out  in  the  yard. 

"  What  can  it  be  ?"  said  Clifford  anxiously. 

"A  dust-storm,  probably/'  replied  the  colonel,  as 
the  weather  had  been  dry  and  parching  hot  for 
several  weeks  past. 

On  came  the  threatening  cloud,  filling  the  air 
from  the  earth  to  an  incredible  height,  and  a  low 
muffled  roar  grew  louder  every  moment;  then,  as 
the  startled  family  sought  the  shelter  of  the  dwell 
ing,  a  seething  mass  of  insects  filled  the  air. 

"  Grasshoppers !  grasshoppers !"  cried  Rob,  danc 
ing  about  in  wild  excitement. 

"  Locusts !"  exclaimed  the  colonel  in  great  con 
sternation;  but  even  then  no  one  but  himself 
realized  the  terrible  disaster  and  wide-spread  ruin 
which  their  visit  portended ;  but  as  he  said,  gravely, 
that  they  were  the  dreaded  locusts  or  grasshoppers 
which  often  laid  waste  whole  nations  of  Spanish- 
America,  devouring  every  vestige  of  the  growing 
crops  of  those  countries  and  in  one  day  leaving  the 
land  like  a  desert,  then  the  meaning  of  the  appall 
ing  calamity  slowly  dawned  upon  them. 


GRASSHOPPERS.  93 

It  was  truly  an  awe-inspiring  scene  that  met 
their  sight,  as  they  stood  by  the  wide  windows  and 
looked  out  on  the  storm  of  insect  life  that  raged 
by,  darkening  the  sun  itself  as  they  swarmed  along 
in  countless  billions. 

One  who  sees  the  feeble  "hopper"  spring  aside 
from  his  path  through  the  Eastern  meadows  can  but 
dimly  comprehend  the  terrible  sight — the  cubic 
miles  of  winged  pests  that  rush  by  with  a  hurtling 
roar,  filling  the  air  all  that  day  like  the  drifting 
snow-flakes,  through  which  the  sunlight  dimly 
glimmered,  or  rolling  by  like  the  rack  of  some 
fierce  storm. 

As  the  dew-drop  that  glints  quivering  in  the 
morning  may  be  a  thing  of  beauty,  but  when  mul 
tiplied  by  the  waters  of  old  ocean  becomes  grand 
and  imposing,  so  it  was  with  this  feeble  insect 
when  re-enforced  by  his  multitudinous  kinsmen; 
and  when  our  friends  saw  his  hordes  darkening  the 
sun,  and  earth  and  sky  swarming  with  his  hosts, 
they  realized,  as  Clifford  said,  "  that  neither  corn 
nor  cotton,  but  'hopper/  was  king,"  and  thence 
forth  that  once  reviled  insect  was  held  in  great 
respect,  though  still  regarded  as  an  unmitigated 
nuisance  by  all  the  members  of  our  colony. 

Next  morning  every  tree,  shrub,  and  building 
was  covered  by  the  insects  in  huge,  dark  masses, 
which  flew  up  in  disgusting  swarms  as  the  settlers 
walked  along,  and  the  fields  of  sod-corn  were  soon 
stripped  clear  of  every  ear  and  blade  by  the  winged 
pests,  and  all  the  vegetables,  also,  fell  victims  to 
their  rapacious  appetites — save,  perhaps,  the  warty 


94  LAND   OF   THE   MOTHER-IN-LAW. 

old  radishes,  that  stood  bravely  up  in  the  ruined 
garden,  rejoicing  in  their  "strength."  The  woolly 
stems  of  the  millet,  likewise,  defied  their  insatia 
ble  appetites. 

The  grasshoppers  hung  about  until  late  in  the 
fall,  as  if  loath  to  leave  such  hospitable 'friends; 
and  when  it  became  apparent  that  the  pests  were 
depositing  their  eggs  in  the  ground,  honey-combing 
the  roads,  fields,  and  banks  of  the  streams  with 
their  cells,  then  the  outlook  became  truly  discour 
aging;  for  it  was  known  that  the  young  brood, 
which  the  next  summer's  sun  would  hatch  out, 
would  work  greater  havoc  and  ruin  than  that 
which  the  settler  had  just  witnessed, — all  of  which 
disheartening  prospects  only  served  still  more  to 
weaken  the  vertebrae  of  those  settlers  not  endowed 
by  nature  with  spines  like  an  oak-tree. 

Accordingly,  near  the  end  of  September,  this 
faint-hearted  class  inaugurated  an  hegira  back  to 
the  Land  of  the  Mother-in-law,  and  by  their  haste 
it  was  to  be  inferred  that  the  much-maligned  lady 
of  story  and  song  had  changed  her  traditional  spots, 
and 'now  stood  waiting  to  receive  them  with  open 
hand,  on  the  digital  members  of  which  no  longer 
were  visible  the  "  claws  "  of  malicious  metaphor. 

The  long  caravan,  as  it  wended  its  eastward 
course,  was  headed  by  the  "chaince"  orator,  and 
the  coon-skin  cap  and  crank-legged  mule,  of 
"bulljine"  memory,  guarded  the  rear  of  the  re 
treating  host. 

It  appeared  as  if  the  exodus  of  the  settlers  was 


95 

regarded  as  a  signal  of  departure  by  the  grass 
hoppers  also ;  for  one  fine  morning  they  rose  up  in 
darkening  swarms  and  departed  to  the  south-west. 

The  Warlow  and  Moreland  families,  who  had 
preferred  to  remain  when  their  more  faint-hearted 
neighbors  left,  now  proceeded  to  sow  their  fields 
in  wheat  and  rye,  and  the  autumn  rains  and  warm 
sunshine  soon  clothed  the  fields  with  a  rank  growth 
of  the  cereals,  which,  with  the  millet,  prairie-hay, 
and  the  pasture  the  wheat-fields  afforded,  served  to 
keep  their  stock  in  good  condition  during  the  mild 
winter  that  followed. 

Our  friends  devoted  the  early  winter  to  build 
ing  stone  barns  and  corrals,  or  pens  for  the  stock, 
and  so  busy,  indeed,  were  the  energetic  settlers  that 
they  could  scarcely  realize  that  March  was  with 
them  again ;  but  the  wray  in  which  that  wayward 
jade  proceeded  to  demonstrate  the  fact  left  no  doubt 
in  the  minds  of  those  who  tried  to  withstand  her 
windy  arguments.  Although  the  weather  was  very 
dry,  the  wheat  and  rye  fields  were  green  and  rank; 
but  when  April  passed,  and  had  neglected  to  shed 
the  customary  tears  over  the  frolics  of  her  wayward 
younger  sister,  and  the  drouth  still  continued,  even 
the  stoical  colonel  became  alarmed  and  fearful  for 
the  future. 

To  add  to  the  gloom  of  the  outlook,  the  warm 
sunshine  had  so  operated  as  an  incubator  that  the 
earth  fairly  squirmed  with  the  newly  hatched  brood 
of  young  grasshoppers ;  and  as  May  came  on  still 
warm  and  dry,  and  the  young  pests  began  their 


96 

dread  ravages  on  the  tender  young  vegetables  and 
fields  of  grain,  then  grim  famine,  with  all  its  hor 
rors,  stared  the  settlers  in  the  face. 

But*on  May  16th,  a  change  was  noticed  in  the 
atmosphere.  The  barometer  denoted  a  rain ;  and 
as  Rob  limped  about,  he  said  that  he  could  feel  a 
storm  in  his  bones;  but  Clifford  thought  that  was 
owing  to  his  tight  boots. 

A  north-east  wind  began  to  blow,  cold  and 
chilly,  and  a  mist  wrapped  the  earth  in  its  foggy 
folds  until  all  the  hills  grew  faint  and  dim ;  then  a 
fine,  drizzling  rain  followed,  which  before  noon 
merged  into^a  perfect  deluge,  and  the  rivulets  as 
they  poured  down  from  the  highlands,  mingled  their 
gurgling  songs  with  the  river's  low  bass,  raging 
and  roaring  over  its  rocky  bed,  all  making  sweet 
music  to  the  ear  of  the  anxious  colonist. 

The  Warlow  homestead  stood,  as  I  have  hereto 
fore  explained,  in  a  grove  that  grew  in  the  river's 
bend ;  and  as  the  house  was  "situated  on  low  ground, 
some  apprehension  was  felt  by  the  family  lest  the 
river  should  reach  the  dwelling;  and  as  the  barn 
was  on  still  lower  ground,  on  the  bank  of  the  stream, 
it  was  suggested  that  the  stock  should  be  taken  to 
the  upland  pasture ;  a  field  that  was  inclosed  with  a 
fence  of  barbed  wire,  and  connected  with  the  barn 
yard  by  a  lane. 

Accordingly,  Clifford  and  Rob  drove  the  horses 
and  mules,  with  the  cattle,  up  to  the  pasture,  and 
after  closing  the  gate  started  on  their  return  through 
the  pouring  rain;  but  when  they  reached  the  mar 
gin  of  what  was,  but  an  hour  before,  a  shallow, 


THE   FLOOD.  97 

grass-bedded  brook,  babbling  away  through  the 
meadow,  they  found  now  a  wide  glassy  stream,  to 
wade  which  they  knew  was  impossible ;  so  divesting 
themselves  of  their  superfluous  clothing,  they  tied 
their  boots  up  in  bundles  to  throw  across. 

Clifford's  budget  landed  safely ;  but  Rob  was 
not  so  fortunate,  he  having  undershot  the  mark, 
and  he  cried  : — 

"  There  go  my  Sundiest  boots  !" 

At  the  rueful  outcry,  Clifford  turned,  just  in 
time  to  see  the  bobbing  bundle  disappear  in  the 
muddy  water. 

The  boys  swam  over  safely  (but  Robbie's  bundle 
was  not  recovered  until  several  days  had  elapsed,  but 
then  found  to  be  sadly  water-logged),  and  as  poor 
Rob  stood  shivering  in  the  rain,  Clifford  gave  him 
his  overcoat. 

"  Oh,  a  fellow  only  needs  a  pair  of  sandals  an<J 
a  plantain-leaf  to  keep  off  the  dew  in  this  dry  re 
gion,"  said  Rob,  as  he  buttoned  the  welcome  gar 
ment  around  him. 

The  boys,  after  changing  their  wet  garments 
when  they  reached  home,  went  down  into  the  par 
lor  where  Maud  sat,  twanging  her  guitar  and 
singing  :— 

"  Oh,  gentle,  gentle  summer  rain ! 
Let  not  the  drooping  lily  pine ;" 

But  Rob  interrupted,  and  with  an  air  of  tragedy, 
sang:— 

"  Oh,  cats  and  pitchforks  cease  to  rain 
And  trickle  down  my  chilly  spine." 
9 


98  THE   FLOOD. 

Then,  his  mother  coming  in,  he  proceeded  to 
tell  about  their  "cruise,"  and  the  sad  fate  of  his 
bundle. 

"  Oh,  you  might  have  been  drowned  in  that  hor 
rid  stream  !"  said  Maud,  dropping  her  guitar  in 
consternation. 

"  About  the  only  way  a  fellow  can  escape  such 
a  fate  out-doors  to-day  is  to  jump  into  the  river," 
said  Clifford,  in  high  good-humor.  "  Talk  about 
the  '  dry  belt/  "  he  continued  ;  "  I  hope  that  geo 
graphical  girdle  will  soon  prove  all  too  short  to 
span  this  western  '  waste.' >; 

The  colonel,  who  had  just  come  in,  said  with  an 
anxious  face : — 

"  I  am  afraid  the  only  dry  belt  left  by  morning 
will  be  the  upstairs,  unless  this  flood  ceases  soon." 

At  this  announcement  Mrs.  Warlow  and  Maud 
flew  into  a  panic,  saying  they  would  all  be  drowned ; 
to  which  gloomy  predictions  the  colonel  and  Clifford 
replied  with  arguments  to  the  effect  that  the  house 
being  of  stone  would  resist  any  flood,  and  all  that 
was  necessary  to  insure  their  safety,  would  be  to 
retire  to  the  upper  story  of  the  dwelling  in  case  the 
water  rose  into  the  house ;  and  the  feminine  portion 
of  the  household  was  soon  reassured,  and  busied 
themselves  preparing  an  early  supper,  while  the 
stronger  members  of  the  family  were  busy  carrying 
the  furniture  up  to  that  place  of  refuge. 

The  books,  pictures,  carpets,  and  other  "  house 
hold  gods,"  were  soon  beyond  danger;  but  the  old 
rosewood  piano  was  a  load  which  nearly  defied  their 
united  efforts,  though  it,  too,  was  successfully  drawn 


THE    FLOOD.  99 

up  the  stairway  with  the  aid  of  block  and  tackle, 
and  finally  the  store  of  provisions — a  very  slender 
store  indeed — was  carried  to  the  upper  rooms. 

After  the  hasty  supper,  Clifford  and  Rob  went 
to  the  stream,  lantern  in  hand,  to  take  a  survey  of 
the  situation.  They  found  the  river  lacked  now 
but  a  foot  of  reaching  the  upper  bank,  and  as  it 
was  still  raining  in  torrents  they  realized  the  gravity 
of  their  position. 

It  was  a  strange,  weird  sight — the  sullen,  roar 
ing  stream;  but  yesterday*^  silvery  chain,  scarce 
linking  the  shallow  pools  where  pebbles  and  shells 
had  shown  in  the  clear,  quiet  depths — now  a  mad, 
dark  river,  boiling  and  swirling  along  in '  the  red 
glare  of  the  light. 

When  they  had  returned  to  the  dwelling  and 
reported  the  situation,  the  colonel  looked  very  grave, 
and  they  began  to  canvass  the  prospect  of  a  retreat. 
There  was  Clifford's  dwelling,  they  remembered,  at 
the  Old  Corral,  situated  high  and  dry ;  but  to  reach 
it  they  would  have  to  cross  a  stream  that  was  a 
foaming  torrent,  and  the  wild,  swift  river  on  the 
south  completely  cut  them  off  from  retreat  in  that 
direction*  while  away  to  the  north  stretched  the  lim 
itless  prairie,  with  not  a  habitation  for  more  than  a 
score  of  miles  to  shelter  them  from  the  cold  and 
driving  rain. 


100  A   RAGING  TORRENT. 


Chapter  IX. 

BUT  when  they  thought  of  the  wide  valley  and 
the  vast  quantity  of  water  necessary  to  raise  one 
foot  after  the  river  left  its  banks,  they  dismissed  the 
thought  of  danger,  and  retired  to  rest. 

The  rain  now  poured  down  with  greater  fury 
than  ever ;  the  wind  lashed  the  roof  with  the  limbs 
of  the  old  elm  that  drooped  over  the  chimneys  and 
gables  of  the  dwelling;  and  the  groaning  and  creak 
ing  added  a  gruesome  feeling  to  the  drowsiness 
which  the  plashing  rain-drops  caused  to  steal  over 
the  inmates  of  that  danger-threatened  household. 

"It  makes  me  think  of  spectres  and  shrieking 
ghosts,"  said  Robbie,  as  he  drew  the  cover  up  closer, 
and  cuddled  down  by  Clifford. 

"Yes;  it  recalls  the  lines  of  'Tarn  O'Shanter,'" 
replied  his  older  brother,  repeating  a  verse  from 
that  masterpiece  of  Burns : — 

"The  wind  blew  as  'twad  blawn  its  last; 
The  rattling  showers  rose  on  the  blast ; 
The  speedy  gleams  the  darkness  swallowed ; 
Loud,  deep,  and  lang  the  thunder  bellowed. 
That  night  a  child  might  understand 
The  deil  had  business  on  his  hand." 

"If  the  Old  Gent  ventures  from  his  fireside  to 
night,  he'll  get  his  tail  wet,"  said  Rob;  then  roll 
ing  over,  the  lad  was  soon  in  the  "  land  of  Nod." 

But  Clifford  lay  for  hours  listening  to  the  hoarse 


101 

roar  of  wind,  river,  trees,  and  pelting  rain;  but 
finally  he  was  lulled  to  sleep,  though  even  in  slum 
ber  he  was  weighed  down  and  haunted  by  a  sense  of 
danger;  and  when  the  clock  chimed  the  hour  of 
twelve  he  arose,  and  stole  down  the  stairs.  As  he 
reached  the  next  to  the  last  step  his  foot  plashed  in 
the  water.  He  knew  at  once  that  the  river  was 
now  out  over  all  the  wide  valley,  and  had  risen  in  a 
stealthy  flow,  invading  the  house,  where  it  was  at 
least  two  feet  deep. 

Watching  the  water  by  the  light  which  he  had 
returned  and  procured,  he  saw  it  was  rising  in  an 
alarming  manner ;  so  he  hastily  dressed  himself  and 
went  to  the  window,  and  opening  the  sash,  which  was 
all  in  one  piece  and  hung  on  hinges,  he  looked  out 
on  the  glaring,  boiling  flood  below.  As  he  stood 
thus,  looking  down  on  the  terrible,  raging  whirl 
pool,  he  was  rapidly  revolving  in  his  mind  plans  of 
escape  from  their  perilous  position ;  but  every  ave 
nue  of  retreat  seemed  closed.  As  he  cast  his  eyes 
about  in  despair,  he  started  joyfully  at  the  thought 
of  the  "Crows'  Nest"  up  in  the  great  elm — a  place 
which  could  be  reached  by  a  flight  of  steps  springing 
from  the  window  ledge  and  leading  far  up  into  the 
forks  of  the  tree. 

Smiling  at  the  fact  that  he  had  not  thought  of  it 
before,  he  sprang  up  the  stairs  into  the  fanciful  re 
treat,  which  Robbie  in  his  boyish  fancy  had  planned 
and  built  in  the  top  of  the  lofty  tree,  and  which, 
on  warm,  sultry  days,  had  proved  to  be  an  aerial 
lounging-place  as  comfortable  as  it  was  novel.  It 
was  a  stout  platform  about  eight  feet  square,  railed 


102  AN   AERIAL   FAMILY. 

about,  and  provided  with  seats,  hammocks,  and 
even  a  rocking-chair.  It  was  with  a  feeling  of 
relief  that  Clifford  stood  on  the  floor  of  the  lofty 
perch  and  glanced  down  at  the  glare  of  water. 

Springing  down  the  steps,  which  were  also  safely 
railed,  he  went  to  the  mark  which  he  had  made  on 
the  wall  and  found  the  water  had  risen  a  full  step, 
and,  knowing  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  he  ran  to 
the  bed  and  awakened  Robbie,  telling  him  of  the 
situation,  and  in  a  few  minutes  that  resolute  young 
chap  was  dressed  and  ready  to  lend  a  willing  hand 
in  the  plan  which  Clifford  unfolded. 

Taking  a  wagon-cover  from  one  of  the  stow 
aways  which  flanked  the  room,  and  a  piece  of 
scantling  from  the  same  catch-all,  the  boys  cut  the 
ropes  from  the  wagon-sheet,  and  after  tying,  the 
scantling  securely  to  the  limbs  above  the  platform, 
at  a  distance  of  six  or  seven  feet  overhead,  they 
next  drew  the  canvas,  tent-fashion,  over  it,  then 
brought  the  ends  down  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
rain  was  excluded  from  the  "  Nest/'  and  tacking 
the  sheet  to  the  floor  and  making  a  flap  for  the 
doorway,  the  interior  was  quite  impervious  to  the 
rain,  which  still  raged  without. 

Some  blankets  were  next  carried  up  and  spread 
on  the  floor,  and  then  two  beds  were  made  hastily, 
and  the  busy  fellows  did  not  omit  the  pillows  and 
sheets ;  so  the  place  wore  a  very  cozy  appearance. 
Then,  when  all  was  complete,  they  awakened  their 
parents  and  Maud,  telling  them  of  the  safe  retreat 
into  which  they  would  be  compelled  to  remove. 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  all  safely  up  in  the 


AN   AERIAL   FAMILY.  103 

"  Nest,"  and  then  the  provisions  and  a  few  valuables 
were  carried  thither,  Rob  cautioning  them  not  to 
forget  a  jug  of  water.  Then  the  boys  went  down 
to  the  hall  stairway  and  found  that  the  water  lacked 
but  two  feet  of  reaching  the  upper  floor. 

Alarmed  and  in  great  suspense,  Clifford  stood 
watching  the  flood,  and  was  relieved  to  see  that  the 
water  crept  more  slowly  up  the  stair;  then  Rob 
bie,  coming  up,  said  that  the  rain  was  about  over 
and  the  stars  were  twinkling  through  the  rifts  above. 

As  the  boys  gazed  at  the  water,  a  faint  wet  line 
became  visible  on  the  wall  just  above  the  flood. 
Breathless  with  suspense,  they  watched  until  the 
band  widened;  then  Clifford  shouted  in  wild  ex 
citement,  "Falling— falling!" 

"She's  falling,  falling!"  shrieked  Rob  as  he 
flew  up  to  the  "Nest"  with  the  joyful  news. 

Yes  ;  it  was  a  blissful  fact  that  the  water  was  sub 
siding,  and,  that  too,  at  a  rate  which  soon  promised 
relief  from  the  danger  which  had  threatened  them 
with  total  ruin. 

Clifford,  ever  thoughtful  of  the  comfort  of  others, 
now  built  a  fire  in  the  warming  stove  which  stood 
in  his  room,  and  proceeded  to  make  coffee  for  the 
weary  and  chilly  party  that  still  remained  up  in  their 
"Nest;"  and  as  the  young  man  remembered  Rob's 
caution  regarding  the  water-jug,  he  hastily  tied  a 
rope  to  a  bucket,  and  reaching  over  the  window- 
ledge,  soon  secured  a  supply  of  the  necessary  fluid. 
A  steaming  hot  cup  of  the  fragrant  beverage  was 
declared  by  the  nestlings  to  be  "  prime  and  de 
licious"  in  the  extreme. 


104  AN   AERIAL   FAMILY. 

Warmed  and  refreshed  now,  the  family  looked 
out  upon  the  strange  scene  which  began  to  emerge 
in  the  dawning  light.  The  valley  was  submerged 
from  hill  to  hill;  but  they  could  see  the  cattle 
patiently  grazing  on  the  highlands,  and  the  poultry 
on  the  accustomed  trees  were  roosting  serenely,  far 
above  the  danger-line. 

The  surrounding  country  was  quite  rolling,  and 
the  stream  headed  among  the  hills  on  the  west,  only 
a  few  miles  distant;  so  after  the  rain  ceased,  the 
flood  subsided  as  rapidly  as  it  had  risen — a  pecu 
liarity  of  all  Western  streams. 

The  family  watched  the  water  subside  until  all 
the  old  land-marks  were  once  more  visible.  The 
fields  were  still  covered  in  shallow  water ;  but  soon 
the  wild  river  shrank  back  into  its  narrow  channel 
once  again. 

There  had  been  great  anxiety  felt  for  the  safety 
of  the  Moreland  family,  although  it  was  known  that 
their  dwelling  was  situated  on  higher  ground  than 
the  Warlow  house ;  yet  no  sign  of  life  was  visible 
at  the  homestead  of  their  neighbor,  and  when  a  loud 
halloo  was  heard  from  Ralph  Moreland,  who  had 
ridden  over  to  the  top  of  one  of  the  hills  which 
shouldered  down  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  river, 
a  glad  cry  in  response  was  raised  from  the  inmates 
of  the  "  Nest." 

It  was  amusing  to  see  the  bewildered  way  in 
which  he  peered  over,  trying  to  discover  their 
whereabouts;  and  when  he  finally  discovered  the 
aerial  family,  he  eagerly  asked  after  their  welfare. 

When  he  learned  of  their  safety,  he  laughed  in 


AN   AERIAL   FAMILY.  105 

a  relieved  and  hearty  way  at  their  "  elevated  station 
in  life." 

In  answer  to  their  inquiries  regarding  his  father's 
family,  he  said  that  the  water  had  not  reached  the 
dwelling;  but  he  was  too  uneasy  thinking  of  their 
danger  to  wait  longer  than  daylight  to  ride  over, 
and,  although  he  did  not  mention  the  fact,  they  saw 
that  his  horse  was  wet  to  the  saddle-bow,  and  knew 
that  he  had  swam  a  dangerous  side-stream  to  gain 
the  hill. 

Maud  begged  him  not  to  return  until  the  water 
subsided,  and  she  kept  shouting  their  experience 
across  the  river,  while  the  equally  noisy  youth  re 
plied  in  tones  like  a  fog-horn. 

Mrs.  Warlow  and  the  colonel  had  now  descended 
to  the  "  lower  regions,"  as  Clifford  termed  the  first 
story  of  the  dwelling,  where  he  and  Rob  were  re 
moving  a  mountain  of  mud  from  the  floor,  and  their 
mother  soon  prepared  a  breakfast  which  those 
hungry  youths  pronounced  a  royal  banquet. 

But  Maud  still  carried  on  her  loud  flirtation 
from  the  tree-top  in  tones  which,  Rob  said,  "  could 
be  heard  in  the  next  county,"  and  the  way  she 
managed,  with  her  lengthened  description  of  their 
experience,  to  detain  Ralph  until  all  danger  of  high 
water  on  his  return  had  passed,  showed  she  felt  a 
greater  interest  in  the  rider  than  in  the  high-toned 
subject. 

After  he  had  at  length  ridden  away,  Maud  de 
scended  to  the  rooms  below,  where  her  mother  was, 
saying  that  "  this  inundation  would  be  long  remem 
bered,  and  would  become  legendary  and  traditional." 

10 


106  AN   AERIAL   FAMILY. 

"Yes,"  replied  Clifford,  gravely,  "Rob  and  I 
will  carry  the  memory  of  the  event  down  to  our 
'  remotest  ancestors.' r' 

"  Oh,  I  daresay  it  will  lose  nothing  in  the  way 
of  variations  in  the  transmission,"  said  Maud; 
"but  here,  you  superior  being,  bring  me  a  pail  of 
water;"  and  Clifford  marched  off  obediently  to  the 
muddy  well. 

"  Why,  madam,"  cried  Rob,  mockingly,  as  he 
scraped  the  mud  from  the  floor,  "  have  you  regained 
your  voice?  I  was  afraid  it  was  utterly  lost;"  and 
he  giggled  at  the  thought  of  how  her  tones  had 
wandered  away  over  the  prairie. 

"  More  scrubbing  and  less  sarcasm,  young  man !" 
she  replied,  with  a  blush,  as  she  vigorously  attacked 
the  wall,  which  was  stained  by  the  water,  or  fres 
coed  with  mud  and  slime ;  but  as  the  plastering  was 
of  hard  coat,  it  soon  regained  its  wonted  purity 
under  the  drenching  which  was  administered  by  the 
energetic  and  busy  workers,  and  long  before  night 
fall  the  usual  neatness  and  order  reigned  in  the 
"VVarlow  household. 

The  young  brood  of  grasshoppers  had  all  been 
swept  away  in  the  flood,  or  perished  in  the  long, 
cold  storm.  Pious  Mrs.  Warlow  said,  "The  hand 
of  the  Lord  is  revealed  in  freeing  the  land  of  those 
pests;"  and  indeed  it  appeared  the  work  of  Provi 
dence,  which  had  so  effectually  destroyed  them  that 
no  further  trace  was  visible  of  the  scourge  which 
only  a  brief  day  before  had  threatened  both  the 
Missouri  and  Arkansas  valleys  with  famine  and 
desolation. 


107 

The  weather,  that  for  the  past  year  had  played 
the  fickle  jade,  now  tried  to  atone  for  her  folly, 
and  often  would  she  burst  into  tears  of  remorse, 
and  veil  her  face  in  summer  clouds,  at  remem 
brance  of  the  wild  tantrums  which  had  marred  her 
equinoctial  history. 

In  the  propitious  rain  and  sunshine  which  fol 
lowed,  the  fields  of  grain  emerged  from  their  coat 
of  rich  sediment,  and  the  lush,  dank  growth  of  the 
cereals  ripened  into  great  level  fields  of  waving 
grain,  the  bronze  and  golden  wheat  and  silvery 
sheen  of  barley  and  oats  contrasting  happily  with 
the  long  rows  of  corn  and  emerald  millet. 

How  often  it  is  thus,  that  misfortune,  on  reach 
ing  a  climax  of  superlative  disaster,  then  assumes 
the  form  of  diminutive  comparison! 

The  migratory  settlers,  that  had  been  sojourning 
in  the  Land  of  the  Mother-in-law,  now  returned,  re- 
enforced  by  cousins  to  a  remote  degree,  and  on  their 
tattered  old  wagon-covers,  on  which  had  glared  in 
letters  of  blue,  black,  and  red,  the  legend  "Kansas 
or  BusT,"  and  which  on  their  subsequent  flitting 
had  been  partially  erased  and  the  assertion  "  buStud 
by  —  "  printed  instead,  now  there  glared  the  daunt 
less  assertion,  "  kansiss  is  the  bEsT  lAnd  unDur 
the  suNn." 


108  THE   PICNIC. 


Chapter  X. 

ONE  delightful  day  in  June  the  Warlow  and 
Moreland  families,  or  the  younger  members 
of  those  households,  attended  a  picnic  which  was 
held  in  a  grove  on  the  river  seven  miles  below  the 
Old  Corral. 

At  an  early  hour  Clifford,  Maud,  and  Robbie 
drove  down  in  their  three-seated  carriage,  drawn 
by  Clifford's  iron  grays,  and  at  Squire  Moreland's 
the  party  was  re-enforced  by  Ralph,  Grace,  and 
Scott.  Baskets  and  fishing-lines  were  stowed  away 
under  the  seats,  and  the  frying-pan,  also,  was  given 
a  place  of  honor  in  the  same  promiscuous  stow-away. 

The  dew  was  sparkling  like  gems  on  the  bearded 
wheat,  so  soon  to  fall  before  the  reaper's  stroke,  and 
the  tender  grass  and  softly-fluttering  trees  were  all 
bathed  in  the  mellow  sunlight,  as  they  sped  down 
the  winding  road. 

When  our  friends  arrived  at  the  grove  they 
found  that  the  platform,  which  had  been  erected 
among  the  trees  close  to  the  river,  was  crowded 
with  a  well-dressed  throng,  who  were  merrily  danc 
ing  to  the  music  of  violin,  organ,  and  guitar.  After 
the  carriage-load  had  been  deposited  on  the  plat 
form,  and  Rob  and  Scott  had  returned  from  caring 
for  the  team,  the  boys  found  Clifford,  Grace,  Ralph, 
and  Maud  busily  improving  the  shining  moments 
in  the  mazes  of  a  cotillion. 


THE   PICNIC.  109 

When  the  music  ceased,  Maud  was  requested  by 
one  of  the  amateur  musicians  to  second  on  the  or 
gan,  which  was  a  mere  labor  of  love ;  and  as  she 
acceded  to  the  request,  she  saw  Rob  and  Grace 
spinning  away  in  a  waltz,  dizzily  gyrating  about 
the  platform  with  a  full  score  of  couples,  all  equally 
giddy  and  alike  bent  on  extracting  the  most  enjoy 
ment  out  of  the  least  possible  time. 

Clifford,  who  stood  leaning  against  a  tree,  sur 
veying  the  varied  groups  with  that  mingling  of 
interest,  amusement,  and  indifference,  which  wre  ex 
perience  in  viewing  the  movements  of  strangers 
who  may  soon  become  acquaintance,  and  possibly 
friends,  was  accosted  by  a  handsome  young  man  of 
near  his  own  age,  who  greeted  him  very  cordially. 

The  new-comer  was  Hugh  Estill,  the  son  of  a 
wealthy  ranchman  who  lived  near,  or  at  least  but  a 
few  miles  further  down  the  valley.  The  two  young 
men  had  become  acquainted  in  a  business  way  while 
Clifford  had  been  buying  cattle  at  the  Estill  ranch 
some  weeks  before,  and  it  was  to  young  Estill  they 
owed  the  invitation  to  the  picnic ;  so  it  was  with  a 
feeling  of  gratitude,  not  unmixed  with  respect  in 
remembrance  of  the  lordly  ranch-house  and  its 
princely  domain,  that  young  Warlow  shook  hands 
and  thanked  the  young  ranchman  for  his  thought 
ful  remembrance  of  them  on  this  pleasant  occasion. 

Robbie  had  by  this  time  surrendered  his  partner  to 
a  young  cow-boy,  a  son  of  the  greatest  "  cattle  king  " 
in  the  valley,  and  as  the  young  "  prince  "  led  Miss 
Grace  out  through  the  changes  of  the  quadrille  he 
seemed  totally  oblivious  of  the  fact  that  his  leather 


110 

"leggins,"  jingling  spurs,  and  silver-mounted  re 
volver  hanging  from  a  cartridge-belt,  were  not 
wholly  in  keeping  with  the  festive  occasion ;  and  as 
they  paused  in  the  dance,  the  bovine  princeling, 
after  blowing  a  long  breath  and  wiping  his  glowing 
brow  on  his  sleeve,  observed : — 

"  That  was  a  terrible  swell — the  young  blood 
with  a  biled  vest,  who  just  waltzed  with  you.  Ha ! 
ha  ! — a  wild  rose  in  his  button-hole  !  Guess  I  '11 
have  to  get  one  also — by  shot!" 

But  Miss  Grace  bluntly  told  him  that  a  gourd- 
vine  would  be  far  more  suitable. 

Robbie,  who  was  happily  unconscious  of  the  dis 
paraging  remarks  which  were  being  made  at  the 
expense  of  his  purple  and  fine  linen,  had  joined 
Clifford  and  been  introduced  to  the  new  friend,  who 
passed  some  good-natured  compliments  on  that  ur 
chin's  dancing,  to  which  Rob  replied  that  he  was 
but  re-dedicating  his  boots  that  so  lately  had  been 
resurrected ;  and  he  proceeded  to  tell  in  his  inimi 
table  manner  of  the  mishap  that  had  carried  his  best 
and  dearly-beloved  boots  to  a  watery  grave,  from 
which  they  were  at  length  "  resurrected,"  all  filled 
with  mud  and  sand.  Laughing  heartily,  Hugh  said 
he  hoped  he  would  shine  as  brightly  on  the  resur 
rection  morn  as  those  same  "  Sunday  boots." 

While  Hugh  and  Robbie  had  been  engaged  in 
the  above  frivolous  and  wholly  unprofitable  conver 
sation,  Clifford  was  improving  the  time  in  furtively 
staring  at  a  radiant  and  superbly  beautiful  young 
lady  who  was  playing  the  guitar  near  Maud;  and, 
indeed,  young  Warlow  might  have  been  excused  if 


A  DARK-EYED  MAID  WITH  HER  SWEET  GUITAR.   Ill 

we  had  detected  him  in  the  rude  act,  for  it  was  a  face 
which  once  seen  would  never  be  forgotten. 

Her  eyes  of  softest  blue  were  veiled  by  silken, 
jetty  lashes,  and  a  wealth  of  raven-black  hair  rippled 
low  on  a  face  of  creamy  olive.  An  expression  of 
pride  mingled  with  the  spirited  vivacity  of  her 
charming  face,  which  he  thought  was  the  most  fasci 
nating  he  had  ever  beheld. 

Every  detail  of  her  dress,  from  the  wide  straw 
hat  with  its  drooping  spray  of  lilies,  the  creamy 
grenadine  with  its  tangled  pattern  of  the  same 
snowy  flowers  and  cascades  of  foamy  lace,  the  cross 
and  chain  of  palest  coral,  with  ribbons  of  the  same 
faint  rose-hue,  evinced  the  taste  and  refined  instincts 
of  a  well-born  and  cultured  lady. 

There  seemed  to  be  the  ineffable  charm  of  grace 
and  elegance  in  her  very  attitude,  as  she  stood  by 
the  organ  and  swept  the  guitar  with  white,  tapering 
fingers,  while  through  all  the  melody  there  thrilled 
the  sweet,  dripping  notes,  like  the  memory  of  some 
half-forgotten  dream,  which,  though  elusive  and 
vague,  still  haunts  our  waking  hours  through  all  the 
turmoil  of  a  busy  day. 

"  Where  have  I  seen  that  form  and  face  before  ?" 
said  Clifford,  half  audibly,  as  the  last  faint  notes 
died  away,  and  he  awoke  from  a  reverie,  while  a 
look  of  surprise  and  delight  broke  over  his  hand 
some  face  ;  then  turning  to  young  Estill  he  said,  in 
an  eager  tone  :  — 

"  Who  is  that  divine  young  creature  who 
played  the  guitar  until  she  set  me  to  dreaming  of 
old  Spain  ?" 


112  MORA   ESTILL. 

"  Why,  that  musical  divinity,"  said  Estill,  with 
a  hearty  laugh,  "  is  my  only  sister  Morelia ;  or  Mora, 
as  we  have  become  used  to  calling  her.  I  shall  be 
pleased  to  present  you,  for  I  am  truly  relieved  to 
find  some  one  who  can  appreciate  her  music,  which 
always  sounded  to  me  very  much  like  cats  fighting." 

A  moment  later  the  young  men  were  upon  the 
platform,  and  young  Estill  said,  in  his  easy,  good- 
humored  way :  — 

"Sister  Mora,  let  me  present  my  friend,  Mr. 
Warlow,  on  whom  your  music  has  had  the  strange 
effect  of  setting  him  to  dreaming,  not  of  cats  on  the 
roof,  but  of  castles  in  Spain, — which  I  have  by  his 
own  confession." 

She  gave  young  Warlow  a  fair,  dimpled  hand, 
on  which  flashed  one  ring  of  rose-colored  amethyst, 
and,  after  he  had  bowed  very  low,  their  eyes  met  in  a 
swift  glance  of  half-puzzled  recognition  and  sur 
prise,  while  a  magnetic  shock  caused  them  both  to 
tremble;  but  quickly  recovering,  she  said,  with  a 
smile,  while  toying  with  a  bracelet  of  carved  Nea 
politan  coral : — 

"  My  brother's  criticisms  are  not  of  much  value, 
for  the  sweetest  sounds  to  his  ears  are  the  bellow- 
ings  of  beef-cattle." 

Then,  as  she  and  Clifford  sauntered  out  to  a 
seat  under  a  tree,  he  said :  — 

"How  strange  it  is,  Miss  Estill,  that  I  have 
never  met  you  before,  for  it  seems  as  though  I  have 
known  you  for  years  !" 

"  Why,  Mr.  Warlow,  I  was  just  trying  to  recall 
the  time  and  place  where  I  had  seen  you.  It  must 


FISHING,  ETC.  113 

have  been  while  we  were  traveling  that  we  have 
been  thrown  together  for  a  moment;  yet  I  can  not 
now  remember  the  circumstance,"  she  replied,  with 
a  look  of  interest  dawning  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"  If  we  had  I  would  not  have  forgotten  such  a 
pleasant  incident,  Miss  Estill.  But  I  am  puzzled 
to  think  why  I  remember  even  your  tone  and  man 
ner  so  well,  for  I  can 't  recall  any  chance  meeting 
with  you  in  the  past." 

At  that  moment  Grace  and  Hugh  Estill  came 
up,  and  proposed  that  they  should  repair  to  the 
river,  near  by,  and  spend  an  hour  fishing;  so  they 
soon  were  seated  under  the  shade  of  an  enormous 
cottonwood-tree  on  the  banks  of  a  deep  pool,  while 
Hugh  and  Grace,  who  had  been  introduced  at  some 
former  meeting,  strayed  along  the  stream  in  quest 
of  a  "  better  place,"  which  they  did  not  discover  in 
sight  or  hearing  of  Miss  Estill  and  Clifford. 

After  casting  their  hooks  into  the  quiet  water, 
they  sat  down  upon  the  shady  bank,  and  Miss 
Estill  said : — 

"Hugh  has  often  spoken  of  you  lately,  and  we 
had  discussed  the  subject  of  calling  on  your  sister 
and  Miss  Moreland,  but  decided  that  we  would 
send  you  an  invitation  to  our  picnic,  at  which  I 
hoped  to  become  acquainted  with  them."  Then, 
seeing  a  shade  of  disappointment  flit  over  his  face, 
she  added,  archly :  "And  you  also.  But  I  assure 
you  that  the  call  will  not  be  deferred  a  great  while 
longer;  for  I  am  delighted  to  find  such  charming 
girls  for  neighbors." 

"The  invitation  was  very  kind  and  thoughtful 


114 

of  you,  Miss  Estill.  We  had  been  longing  to  meet 
congenial  companions,  and  hailed  the  news  of  the 
picnic  with  all  the  delight  of  people  who  have  been 
isolated  from  society  for  a  year  or  more.  I  hope 
you  will  believe  it  is  no  vain  compliment  when  I 
tell  you  that  I  have  already  met  new  friends  here 
that  I  value  higher  than  any  of  my  old  ones," 
Clifford  replied,  as  he  knotted  a  bunch  of  elder- 
bloom,  snowy  and  fragrant,  with  the  blossoms  of 
the  wild  heart's-ease,  azure  and  gold,  which  grew 
on  the  sandy  stretch  at  their  feet.  Then,  adding  a 
fern-like  tuft  of  meadow-fescue,  he  held  it  toward 
Miss  Estill,  while  a  look  of  undisguised  admiration 
shone  in  his  clear  blue  eyes,  saying : — 

"  In  memory  of  my  deep  gratitude." 

Fastening  the  flowers  among  the  meshes  of  lace 
on  her  breast,  she  busied  herself  a  moment  with 
the  fishing-tackle  as  she  drew  the  hook  from  the 
water  with  a  dangerous  movement.  Then,  with  a 
smile  dimpling  her  face,  she  said : — 

"If  you  feel  such  a  deep  sense  of  gratitude, 
Mr.  Warlow,  you  may  discharge  the  debt  by  bait 
ing  my  hook,  which  some  wary  turtle  or  other 
aquatic  creature,  has  been  investigating." 

With  ready  alacrity,  Clifford  performed  the  de 
sired  service;  and  as  he  let  go  the  hook,  Miss 
Estill  began  a  series  of  manoeuvres  with  the  fish- 
pole  that  were  as  womanly  as  they  were  threaten 
ing.  Finally,  after  the  hook  had  performed  for 
some  time  around  his  head  writh  a  dangerous 
"  s-w-i-s-*h,"  it  fortunately  landed  plump  into  the 


FISHING,  ETC.  115 

water,  with  a  thud  and  splash  loud  enough  to  scare 
all  the  fish  upon  dry  land. 

They  stood  a  moment,  silently  watching  the 
widening  ripple ;  then,  as  they  seated  themselves  on 
the  bank  again,  Miss  Estill  said,  with  a  smile : — 

"You  are  very  brave,  indeed,  Mr.  Warlow, 
never  to  wince.  But  perhaps  you  were  not  aware 
of  the  great  risk  a  man  runs  who  fishes  with  a 
woman.  I  never  should  have  forgiven  myself  if 
that  awkward  hook  had  caught  in  your  eye." 

"Or  my  ear/7  he  added,  with  such  a  look  of 
comic  distress  that  she  dropped  her  fish-pole  into 
the  water  with  a  merry  laugh ;  then,  as  he  joined 
in  the  merriment,  the  startled  mocking-bird  over 
head  hushed  its  song,  and  flitted  away  to  some 
quieter  nook. 

"  Now,  if  we  are  not  more  careful,  we  will  have 
to  dine  on  humility  to-day/7  she  said,  as  he  re 
covered  the  fishing-tackle.  "  But  do  you  really 
grow  lonesome  in  your  new  home,  Mr.  Warlow?" 
she  added. 

"  Yes,  indeed  I  did,"  said  Clifford,  with  an  em 
phasis  on  the  past  tense  that  indicated  the  remote 
ness  of  those  days.  "  But  we  were  very  busy  until 
recently,  and  I  did  not  fully  realize  what  a  hermit 
I  had  become  until  I  came  here  into  the  crowd, 
and  found  myself  growing  hot  and  cold  by  turns, 
my  heart  palpitating,  and  my  hands  and  feet  getting 
heavy.  Then  I  knew  it  would  only  be  a  matter 
of  time  when  I  should  fly,  like  a  South  Sea  Islander, 
at  very  sight  of  a  human  face,  much  less  the  pres 
ence  of  a  fashionable  young  lady ;"  and  he  joined 


116      FISHING,  ETC. — PRINCIPALLY  THE  LATTER. 

Miss  EstilPs  merriment  at  his  charming  candor, 
with  an  easy  laugh. 

"Oh,  I  appreciate  the  situation,"  she  replied; 
"  for  when  they  sent  me  to  Cincinnati  to  the  board 
ing-school,  where  all  was  so  strange,  and  the  only 
ray  of  sunshine  in  the  long  weeks,  months,  and 
years  was  a  flitting  call  from  my  fashionable  aunt, 
or  the  yearly  visits  to  my  Western  home,  I  felt 
desolate  and  miserable.  Why,  I  was  so  shy,  and 
possibly  a  bit  wild,  that  I  gained  the  name  of  Ante 
lope  among  my  school-mates;"  and  Miss  Estill 
smiled  somewhat  sadly  at  remembrance  of  those 
past  days. 

"  When  you  returned  to  your  home,  it  certainly 
must  have  seemed  lonely  after  the  life  in  that 
'American  Florence/  "  said  young  Warlow. 

"  Oh,  it  was  paradise  !  I  could  scarcely  believe 
that  the  old  days  of  banishment  were  over;  and 
indeed  I  half  feared,  sometimes,  that  they  would 
pack  me  off  again.  It  was  such  a  perfect  joy  to  be 
back  at  the  dear  old  ranch  once  more  with  Hugh 
and  my  parents,  that  I  vowed  I  should  never  leave 
again.  But  when  I  had  been  back  a  year  I  did 
sometimes  long  for  a  good,  confidential  chat  with 
my  girl  friends,  and  would  be  a  bit  lonesome  while 
Hugh  was  away ;  but  our  life  is  one  ceaseless  round 
of  labor,  toil,  and  care,  so  I  have  short  time  for 
repining.  Would  you  believe,  Mr.  Warlow,  that 
more  than  half  the  time  all  the  duties  of  house 
keeper,  unaided,  devolve  upon  me  ?  Our  house 
has  been  a  constant  panorama  of  '  domestic '  wed 
dings  since  I  returned  from  school ;  yes,  and  for 


FISHING,  ETC. — PRINCIPALLY  THE  LATTER.      117 

years  before  also.  No  sooner  would  we  begin  to 
appreciate  some  household  treasure— a  Nora,  Ruth, 
or  Nelly,  who  had  come  from  the  East  to  lessen 
our  domestic  burdens — than  along  would  come  some 
spruce  ranchman  or  handsome  young  homesteader, 
and — presto  ! — our  domestic  was  courted  away  in  a 
twinkling  to  brighten  a  new  home.  And  what  with 
the  wedding  which  mamma  always  insists  upon, 
and  the  bridal  finery  she  bestows,  the  burden  is 
redoubled.  My  weary  shoulders  fairly  ache  as  we 
pass  through  the  constant,  or  tri-yearly,  recur 
rence  of  the  same  experience.  Hugh  says  that 
he  believes  the  servant-girls  of  the  East  have 
finally  come  to  look  upon  our  house  as  a  matri 
monial  agency." 

"  Do  you  not  think,  Miss  Estill,  that  the  bright 
new  homes,  which  are  a  result  of  your  charities,  are 
sufficient  reward  for  your  domestic  martyrdom  ?" 

"Oh,  if  you  think  our  providing  wives  for  the  mis 
cellaneous  ranchers,  herders,  and  homesteaders  could 
be  called  a  charity,  I  will  have  to  say  that  our  further 
ing  of  those  matches  has  proved  a  mixed  blessing 
indeed;  for  I  recall  a  world  of  conjugal  infelicity 
which  has  followed  those  hasty  and  ofttimes  ill- 
assorted  matches.  *  Marry  at  pleasure/  etc.,  is  a 
maxim  true  as  it  is  trite,  Mr.  Warlow." 

"Yes;  it  is  undeniable  that  unhappy  matings  do 
occur;  but  I  can  not  see  how  a  lonesome  bachelor, 
who  eats  his  own  vile  cooking  and  goes  through  the 
vain  ceremony  of  laundry-work,  could  ever  aggra 
vate  his  deplorable  condition,  Miss  Estill." 

"But  the  fact  remains  that  he  certainly  does," 


118      FISHING,  ETC. — PRINCIPALLY  THE  LATTER. 

she  replied,  with  a  low  gurgling  laugh,  like  the 
ripple  of  some  sweet,  clear  brook.  "  Why,  Mr. 
Warlow,  I  recall  a  scene  of  which  I  was  the 
innocent  witness  one  evening  last  month.  I  was 
riding  by  the  ranch  of  Mr.  Blank,  who  had  wooed 
and  won  our  cook  after  a  courtship  that  was  as 
brief  as  it  was  fervid.  I  have  reason  to  believe 
he  pines  for  his  former  state  of  untrammeled  free 
dom  ;  for,  in  some  argument  which  they  seemed  to 
be  discussing  that  evening,  she,  his  faithful  help 
meet,  hurled  the  milk-stool  at  his  head.  I  rode 
quickly  away,  mentally  washing  my  hands  of  any 
further  matrimonial  schemes. 

"  Mr.  Warlow !  a  fish,  a  fish  !"  she  cried  in  a  low 
tone,  and  he  turned  his  eyes  reluctantly  to  the  sadly 
neglected  fishing-tackle,  which  he  had  "  set "  by 
thrusting  the  poles  into  the  bank,  and  which  they, 
in  their  long  and  absorbing  conversation,  had  totally 
forgotten.  There  he  saw  the  flash  of  a  finny 
monster  in  the  water,  and  the  fish-pole  violently 
threshing  in  the  air  above  the  pond,  and  as  he 
drew  the  glittering  perch  from  the  pool,  he  found 
that  it  had  become  entangled  in  Miss  Estill's  fish- 
line  also. 

"It  is  our  fish,  is  it  not? — and  a  good  omen," 
he  said,  as  he  secured  the  prize  which  fluttered  at 
her  feet 

"  It  is  our  '  luck/  "  she  replied  gaily ;  "  but  we 
can  boast  of  little  skill  in  angling;"  at  which  they 
both  laughed,  low  but  heartily,  at  the  thought  how 
far  into  foreign  fields  they  had  rambled,  leaving 
their  fishing  to  chance,  and  in  that  merry  glance 


119 

was  laid  the  foundation  of  sympathy,  appreciation, 
and  friendship. 

When  they  returned  to  the  grove  they  were 
joined  by  Hugh,  Grace,  Maud,  and  Ralph,  whose 
success  had  been  most  woefully  indifferent.  Those 
discomfited  anglers  looked  with  undisguised  envy 
on  the  great  piscatorial  prize,  and  while  it  was  fry 
ing  on  the  fire,  which  Scott  and  Robbie  kindled, 
they  all  lent  a  ready  ear  to  the  malicious  story 
which  the  latter  urchin  told— "That  Cliff  had 
brought  a  mackerel  to  the  picnic,  and  it  was  that 
same  identical  fish  which  they  were  frying." 

When  the  cloth  was  spread  on  the  grass,  and  the 
great  fish,  garnished  with  elder-blooms  and  wild- 
roses,  was  given  the  place  of  honor  at  the  feast, 
Hugh  Estill  said  : — 

"  Now,  Mora,  please  pass  the  mackerel." 

Only  then  was  the  fact  made  plain  that  Robbie 
was  a  boy,  given  to  telling  "fish  stories,"  and  could 
be  trusted  and  relied  upon  only  at  the  dinner- 
table. 

Ah  !  it  was  a  gleeful  hour  at  that  alfresco  meal, — 
the  soft  breeze  stirring  the  tree-tops,  and  the  bright 
sunlight  sifting  down  through  the  fluttering  leaves 
on  the  silver  and  crystal,  the  frosty  cake  and  quiver 
ing  jelly,  the  crimson  and  gold,  and,  above  all,  the 
happy  faces  of  our  young  friends. 

Dancing  and  an  impromptu  concert,  followed  by 
charades  on  a  temporary  stage,  served  to  pass  away 
a  few  more  blissful  hours:  then  the  revelers  broke 
into  groups  and  couples,  sauntering  into  shady 
nooks,  and  engaging  in  those  long  and  confidential 


120  "WE   HAVE   MET   BEFORE." 

chats  which  are  totally  devoid  of  interest  to   any 
save  themselves. 

Miss  Estill  and  young  Warlow  were  seated  upon 
a  bank  where  the  mingled  sunlight  and  pale  shadows' 
flickered  softly  over  the  lush  and  tender  sward,  and 
their  conversation  steered  away  from  the  shoals  and 
quagmires  of  match-making  and  matrimony  to  the 
vague  and  mystic  fields  t)f  metaphysics. 

"Do  you  know,  Miss  Estill,  that  I  have — a  dim 
impression,  shall  I  call  it? — of  having  met  you 
somewhere  before?" 

"Yes;  I  remember  distinctly  of  your  having 
not  only  met  me,  but  also  kindly  helping  me  catch 
a  fish,  before,"  she  replied,  archly. 

Clifford  said,  in  a  laughing  manner,  that  he  was 
not  so  ungallant  as  to  forget  that  thrilling  adven 
ture,  then  he  continued  in  an  earnest  tone : — 

"I  feel  like  we  had  met  long  years  ago;  and 
somehow,  Miss  Estill,  it  all  appears  so  natural  to  be 
with  you,  to  hear  your  tones  and  see  your  face,  that 
it  is  like  the  return  of  some  dear  friend  whom  you 
have  longed  to  see  for  years." 

"  You  almost  make  me  believe  in  the  theory  of 
the  transmigration  of  souls,  Mr.  Warlow.  How 
very  possible  it  may  have  been  that  in  some  dim, 
pre-historic  age  you  and  I  were  a  pair  of  giant 
king-fishers,  who  to-day  were  reunited  on  the  banks 
of  our  favorite  stream  after  the  lapse  of  untold 
ages! — and  what  is  more  natural  than  we  should 
take  to  our  antediluvian  occupation  at  once?"  and 
she  peered  down  into  the  pool  with  a  sidelong  glance 
as  though  searching  for  her  finny  prey,  while  Clif- 


THE   GRAY  SPECTRE.  121 

ford  shook  with  merriment  at  her  happy  imitation 
of  that  uncanny  bird. 

"  I  never  was  a  firm  believer  in  Swedenborg ; 
yet  the  thought  haunts  me  still  that  I  certainly 
have  met  you  before  to-day,  although,  as  you  say, 
it  may  have  been  in  some  previous  happy  state, 
Miss  Estill." 

"  Now,  to  be  frank,  Mr.  Warlow,  I  confess  to 
being  a  bit  superstitious,  which  may  be  owing, 
however,  to  my  living  so  isolated  from  society  all 
these  years  that  I  even  welcomed  company  of  a 
supernatural  nature,  which,  you  know,  is  better 
than  none." 

"  Why,  it  can  not  be  that  your  vicinity  is  peopled 
by  shrieking  ghosts,  too?"  said  Clifford  quickly,  as 
the  memory  of  the  spectre  of  the  Stone  Corral  came 
to  mind,  which  in  the  turmoil  of  their  busy  lives 
had  been  nearly  forgotten. 

"  I  can  not  see  why  I  should  revert  to  such  a 
subject  to-day;  but  some  way  the  mention  of  trans 
migration  of  souls  brought  the  remembrance  of  the 
Gray  Spectre  to  my  mind,"  said  she,  glancing  fur 
tively  over  her  shoulder ;  then,  as  she  caught  young 
Warlow's  amused  look,  she  smiled  responsively, 
and  continued: — 

"  You  too  have  a  skeleton  in  the  family,  I  per 
ceive;  so  let's  unburden  our  souls  and  exchange 
confidences." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  said  Clifford;  "I  am  glad 
we  have  such  a  mutual  bond  of  sympathy." 

Then  he  told  how  the  gray-robed  figure  had 
startled  the  group  at  the  camp-fire,  and  fled  shriek- 

11 


122  THE   GRAY   SPECTRE. 

ing  away,  that  memorable  evening  more  than  a  year 
before ;  and  although  all  of  their  family  had  main 
tained  an  apprehensive  outlook  for  a  second  visit 
from  his  spookship,  they  never  had  been  molested 
further ;  and  he  concluded  by  saying  : — 

"But  I  hope,  Miss  Estill,  your  experience  will 
throw  some  light  on  the  mystery." 

"  It  is  undoubtedly  the  same  spectral  being 
which  has  haunted  our  ranch  for  the  past  twenty- 
five  years,  and  which  has  eluded  pursuit  on  every 
occasion,  although  papa,  Hugh,  and  several  herders 
have  endeavored,  more  or  less  bravely,  to  trace  it; 
but  the  mysterious  apparition  always  vanishes  into 
the  night  without  leaving  a  trace.  Why,  I  have 
become  so  fearful  that,  like  the  daughter  of  the 
bold  Glengyle, — 

'  Alone  I  dare  not  venture  there, 
Where  walks,  they  say,  the  shrieking  ghost,' — 

and  I  often  fly  at  the  sight  of  my  own  shadow," 
said  Miss  Estill.  "  One  evening,  Mr.  Warlow,  I 
was  riding  by  a  peculiarly  lonesome  spot  near 
home, — a  lofty  hill  on  which  there  is  the  grave  of  a 
mysterious  relative,  who  died  near  a  quarter  of  a 
century  since,  and  of  whose  history  I  can  learn  but 
little.  Although  Hugh  and  I  often  question  our 
parents  about  him,  they  seem  to  evade  our  inquiries. 
I  had  reached  a  point  close  to  the  grave, — which  is 
all  overgrown  with  thistles,  notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  I  had  repeatedly  planted  flowers  and  roses 
there  that  had  always  refused  to  grow, — when  that 
same  hideous,  gray-robed  creature  emerged  from 
the  thicket  about  the  grave,  and  as  I  halted,  frozen 


THE  MYSTERY-WRAPPED  GRAVE.  123 

with  horror  at  the  sight,  the  gaunt  wretch  glared  a 
moment,  then  fled  shrieking  away  in  the  darkling 
twilight.  Oh,  I  never  paused  to  investigate,  you 
may  believe,  but  gave  rein  to  my  pony,  which  was 
as  badly  frightened  as  myself,  and  flew  home  like 
the  wind,"  said  Miss  Estill  with  a  shiver. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  up  to  the  corral,  Miss 
Estill?"  Clifford  asked. 

"  Not  for  three  years,  Mr.  Warlow.  Now,  while 
we  are  speaking  of  supernatural  things,  I  must  tell 
you  how  strangely  I  always  felt  at  that  place.  I 
can  never  go  about  the  old  ruin  without  being 
assailed  by  an  uncanny  feeling — something  like  one 
might  be  expected  to  feel  who  walks  over  her  own 
grave,  you  know !"  she  added  with  a  smile ;  then 
continuing  she  said  earnestly :  "  It  always  seems 
that  something  terrible  haunts  the  very  air  there, 
and  I  feel  a  weight  of  grief  and  misery  that  hor 
rifies  me  whenever  I  pass  the  spot.  If  I  had  lost 
my  dearest  friend  there,  I  should  have  very  much 
the  same  sensation,  I  believe,  at  sight  of  the  ruin. 
I  struggle  with  my  memory  to  recall  some  event 
with  which  I  seem  to  have  been  connected  there; 
but  it  is  all  in  vain,  for  it  is  as  intangible  as  a 
moonbeam." 

"  That  is  very  mysterious  indeed,  Miss  Estill ; 
for  I  often  feel  very  much  that  way  myself  there, 
but  not  in  so  marked  a  degree  as  when  I  pass  that 
great  hill  three  miles  up  the  valley,  known  as 
Antelope  Butte.  I  am  often  overpowered  by  a 
feeling  of  deepest  melancholy  and  grief  while  only 
passing  that  hill.  The  first  time  I  saw  the  place  I 


124 


was  shocked  to  think  how  familiar  it  all  seemed; 
for  I  found  the  spring  near  its  base  just  where  my 
instinct  seemed  to  tell  me  that  the  water  bubbled 
forth  from  the  rocky  cleft.  But  a  feeling  of  unut 
terable  longing  and  an  uncontrollable  yearning  to  see 
some  one,  the  name  even  of  whom  I  can  not  recall, 
always  seizes  me  there,  and  I  am  both  perplexed 
and  horrified  at  the  sensation,"  Clifford  replied. 

Gradually  the  tone  of  their  conversation  lost  its 
gloomy  hue,  and  rambled  away  into  the  realms  of 
art,  history,  and  song,  of  the  fair  foreign  lands  be 
yond  that  blue,  quivering  horizon;  and  as  Miss 
Estill  fluttered  her  fan  of  carved  ivory  and  rose- 
plumes,  talking  in  her  sweet  vivacious  way,  the 
sunlight  threw  a  halo  about  the  golden  hair  and 
Grecian  face  of  the  youth  reclining  on  the  bank, 
suffusing  with  rose  the  handsome  features  that  even 
a  western  sun  in  all  its  fierceness  could  not  rob  of 
its  fresh  glow. 

As  the  fastidious  Miss  Estill  noted  every  detail 
of  his  faultless  attire,  neither  old  nor  new,  from  the 
tips  of  his  shapely  fingers  to  his  glossy  boots  bear 
ing  the  undeniable  stamp  of  gentleman,  she  thought 
how  utterly  effete  was  the  comparison,  "  Rough  as 
a  farmer;"  and  as  admiration  shone  in  his  boyish 
face,  illuminated  with  those  honest  blue  eyes,  fringed 
by  their  lashes  of  dead  gold,  is  it  any  wonder  that 
romance  threw  its  glamour  over  the  scene,  and  they 
half  forgot  to  roam  in  fancy  through  foreign  lands, 
thinking  of  the  joyful  present,  which,  alas!  we  sel 
dom  value  until  it  has  become  a  sweet  memory  only. 

The  long  shadows  which  stole  down  from  the 


"BOUGH  AS  A  FARMER."  125 

hill-tops  warned  our  young  friends  that  they  would 
soon  part,  and  reluctantly  they  returned  to  the  plat 
form,  where  preparations  for  starting  were  being 
made.  Grace  Moreland  and  Hugh  Estill  still  ap 
peared  to  be  deeply  engrossed  with  each  other's 
society,  and  it  was  not  remarkable  that  young  Estill 
should  hover  about  the  vivacious  and  bewitching 
Grace;  for  she  was  a  sparkling,  graceful  creature, 
the  picture  of  innocence  and  youth,  in  her  dress  of 
fleecy  white. 

As  Clifford  stood  by  Miss  Estill  at  parting,  he 
said,  while  his  hand  rested  on  the  mane  of  her 
creamy  horse : — 

"Ah,  Miss  Estill,  I  little  thought  what  this 
morning  held  in  store.  This  has  been  a  day  that 
repays  the  many  dark  years  of  the  past,  and  I  shall 
treasure  its  memory  forever." 

"  Yes ;  a  blissful  day  indeed,  Mr.  Warlow ;  and 
it  almost  makes  me  sad  to  think  I  shall  ever  grow 
old,"  she  replied,  as  she  gave  her  hand,  which  he 
held  longer — yes,  I  shall  have  to  confess  the  fact, 
much  longer — than  the  laws  of  conventionality  de 
manded. 

As  the  Warlow  carriage  drove  up  the  broad  val 
ley,  the  coolness  of  twilight  was  brooding  over  the 
prairies,  and  the  twittering  songsters  fluttered  down 
from  the  highlands  to  the  sheltering  thickets  which 
belted  the  stream,  and  the  fire-flies  gemmed  the 
dusky  groves  and  meadows  when  they  alighted  at 
their  homes. 


126  A   WESTERN   CALL.  (!) 


Chapter  XL 

ON  a  clear,  serene  Sabbath  following  the  picnic, 
Miss  Estill  and  Hugh  rode  up  to  Squire  More- 
land's,  excusing  the  call  on  that  holy  day  by  saying 
that  they  were  too  busy  to  spare  one  day  of  six; 
and  after  dinner  at  that  hospitable  home,  they 
walked  up  to  Colonel  Warlow's,  being  accompanied 
by  Grace,  Ralph,  and  Scott. 

They  paused  at  the  great  latticed  and  arched 
gate  to  glance  into  the  yard,  which  was  inclosed 
by  a  low  stone  wall,  over  which  the  grapes  and 
wild-roses  clambered  in  heavy  clusters  of  tangled 
foliage.  Two  gaudy  peacocks  were  sunning  their 
glittering  plumage  on  the  grass  plat  in  front  of  the 
long  stone  dwelling  resting  so  cool  under  the  great 
elm — that  same  historical  tree  which  had  served  as 
place  of  refuge  during  the  "flood" — drooping  low 
over  the  quaint  gables,  dormer  windows,  and  chim 
neys  wreathed  by  the  transplanted  wild  vines  which 
festooned  the  rough  walls. 

The  colonel  was  asleep  in  a  hammock,  which 
was  slung  in  the  latticed  porch,  and  his  placid  wife 
sat  near,  reading  the  Bible,  as  she  rocked  softly  in 
the  easy-chair.  Clifford,  clad  in  a  cool  white  suit, 
was  reading  also ;  but  I  fear  the  work,  in  which  he 
was  so  absorbed  that  he  had  not  seen  the  approach 
ing  guests,  was  not  of  such  a  sacred  nature  as  be- 


A   WESTERN   CALL.  (!)  127 

fitted  the  LordVday.  Maud  and  Rob,  swinging  in 
a  swing  which  was  fastened  to  the  limbs  of  the 
great  elm,  were  likewise  perusing  the  pages  of 
some  entertaining  book,  which  Maud  dropped  with 
a  little  feminine  squeak  of  delight  as  she  saw  her 
friends;  then  she  flew  down  the  path,  and  greeted 
the  new-comers  with  unfeigned  pleasure. 

As  she  kissed  Miss  Estill  and  Grace  in  true 
girlish  fashion,  Rob,  the  handsome  rogue,  came  for 
ward  and  gravely  offered  to  salute  the  ladies  in  the 
same  manner;  but  his  cordial  advances  were  declined 
with  thanks,  whereupon  he  turned  to  the  young 
men  of  the  party  and  kissed  them  effusively,  amid 
their  merry  peals  of  laughter  at  his  sly  way  of 
ridiculing  the  feminine  mode  of  greeting. 

Mrs.  Marlow  said  in  her  low,  sweet  voice,  as  sjie 
led  the  guests  into  the  house,  after  they  had  been 
presented  in  due  form  by  Clifford, — 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  hunting  us  up  this 
lonesome  afternoon." 

"  We  should  have  done  so  long  before  this  if  we 
had  known  what  very  agreeable  neighbors  lived  so 
near,"  replied  young  Estill. 

"  You  will  smile,  possibly,  at  our  thinking  twelve 
miles  a  neighborly  distance,  Mrs.  Warlow,  but  I 
assure  you  it  seems  only  a  trifle  when  we  remember 
that  for  years  we  have  considered  the  people  of 
Abilene  and  Lawrence  our  neighbors,"  said  Miss 
Estill  as  she  sank  into  an  easy-chair,  after  Maud 
had  relieved  her  of  the  jaunty  black  hat  with  its 
drooping  white  plume. 

"  We  will  freely  forgive  you,  Miss  Estill,  if  you 


128  A   WESTERN   CALL.  (!) 

will  atone  for  your  past  neglect,"  said  Mrs.  Warlow, 
with  a  pleased  smile.  "  The  lack  of  society  has  been 
the  greatest  privation  attending  our  Western  life, 
and  but  for  the  unvarying  kindness  and  sympathy 
of  Squire  Moreland's  family,  I  fear  we  should  have 
found  it  quite  monotonous." 

The  room  where  they  were  seated  was  a  wide, 
many-windowed  apartment,  with  cool  lace  curtains 
sweeping  the  dark,  rich  carpet.  The  walls  were 
graced  by  a  few  pictures  and  portraits,  and  on  the 
brackets  of  walnut  and  mahogany  were  vases  of 
wild-flowers.  A  wide  bay-window  at  one  end  was 
half  screened  by  the  curtains  of  lace,  and  through 
their  filmy  meshes  could  be  seen  the  cherished  ge 
raniums  and  fuchsias  that  were  so  dear  to  Maud  as  a 
memento  of  the  old  Missouri  home.  A  great 
beveled  mirror,  framed  in  heavy  gilt  moulding, 
reached  from  the  mantel  to  the  ceiling;  and 
strangest  sight  in  this  Western  land  was  a  wide 
fire-place;  but  instead  of  the  glowing  coals  and 
crackling  flames  which  one  always  associates  with 
the  hearth-stone,  there  were  banks  of  blooming  plants. 
The  rich  old  piano  and  Maud's  guitar  occupied 
one  corner,  and  a  low,  velvet  divan  the  other,  on 
each  side  of  the  mantel.  It  was  a  room  which, 
Miss  Estill  and  her  brother  perceived,  was  redolent 
with  the  refinement  and  harmony  of  the  family,  as 
simply  elegant  and  devoid  of  sham  and  pretense  as 
its  owners. 

Miss  Estill  gave  a  sigh  of  gratification  as  her  glance 
swept  the  apartment,  and  rested  out  on  the  shady, 
well-kept  lawn,  where  the  hum  of  bees  and  songs 


A  WESTERN   CALL.  (!)  129 

of  wild-birds  seemed  so  wholly  in  keeping  with  the 
tone  of  happiness  and  industry  which  pervaded  the 
"Warlow  household. 

"  How  strange  it  seems  that  you  have  been  here 
so  short  a  time  !  It  is  almost  like  enchantment — 
this  evolving  such  a  perfect  home  from  the  wild, 
lonesome  prairies  and  tangled  woodland,  where  the 
wolf  and  buffalo  roamed  unmolested  not  two  short 
years  ago." 

"  We  have  to  thank  nature  for  the  trees  and 
flowers,  the  vines  also,  Miss  Estill ;  but  you  see  we 
had  little  else  to  occupy  our  time  but  the  improve 
ments  of  our  new  home;  though  I  believe  we  can 
truly  say  that  we  have  not  been  idle  the  past  year," 
replied  Clifford. 

"  It  is  wonderful  what  a  change  your  taste  and 
energy  have  made  in  that  brief  time.  "We  can  not 
blame  our  Eastern  friends,  who  never  have  beheld  a 
wide,  desolate  prairie  transformed  into  such  a  charm 
ing  home-land  as  this  in  a  short  year,  if  they  do 
vilify  the  average  Kansan,  and  tax  him  with  boast- 
fulness  and  other  vices  not  akin  to  truth." 

At  request  of  her  guests,  Maud  was  soon  seated 
at  the  rich,  mellow-toned  piano,  and  the  strains  of 
"  The  Bridge "  floated  out  through  the  open  win 
dows,  as  her  sweet  contralto  rose,  freighted  with  the 
heart-throbs  and  regret  which  thrill  through  the 
melody  of  that  pathetic  song. 

"Ah  !  Tennyson  never  had  heard  this  sad,  weird 
poem  when  he  gave  the  title  'Lord  of  Human 
Tears'  to  Victor  Hugo,  or  our  own  Longfellow 
would  have  won  it,"  said  Miss  Estill  with  a  sigh. 

12 


130  A   WESTERN   CALL.  (!) 

"Yes;  Longfellow  is  the  poet  that  seems  nearest 
in  all  our  moments  of  retrospection.  I  never  stand 
at  the  crossing  of  the  old  Santa  Fe  and  Abilene 
Trails,  on  that  hill  yonder,  without  his  lines  re 
curring, — 

1  Like  an  odor  of  brine  from  the  ocean, 
Comes  the  thought  of  other  years ;' — 

and  I  must  tell  you,  Miss  Estill,  that  whenever  I 
meet  you  I  feel  that  same  remembrance,  vague  and 
evanescent,  of  a  time  when  you  and  I  were  very 
happy,  and  were  all — at  least  we  were  very  great 
friends.  But  it  is  so  shadowy  and  indistinct  that  I 
can  not  grasp  its  meaning.  It  is  like  the  memory 
of  some  half-forgotten  dream  or  the  dim  recollec 
tions  of  a  former  life,"  replied  young  Warlow,  in  a 
low  tone,  as  the  pulsing  waves  of  music,  the  "Blue 
Danube,"  throbbed  through  the  vines  and  lace  cur 
tains  of  the  bay-window  where  they  sat. 

"  If  you  were  less  thrifty,  Mr.  Warlow,  I  would 
suspect  you  were  too  fond  of  poetry  to  be  practical. 
But  I  should  not  throw  sarcastic  stones  at  your  glass 
house,  for  it  has  been  no  longer  than  a  month  ago 
that  mamma  scolded  me  roundly  for  forgetting  the 
yeast  in  my  batch  of  light  bread.  I  had  to  lay  all  the 
blame  at  the  '  open  door ?  of  the  '  Moated  Grange/ 
which  I  had  been  reading.  Poor  Mariana  might 
well  have  said,  after  looking  on  my  leaden  loaves : — 

'  I  am  aweary,  aweary, — 
I  would  that  I  were  dead !'  " 

While  Clifford  was  making  some  laughing  reply 
to  this  bucket  of  poetical  cold  water,  he  and  Miss 
Estill  were  summoned  to  the  piano,  where  our  young 


A   WESTEKN   CALL.  (!)  131 

friends  were  floundering  hopelessly  through  the  in 
tricacies  of  a  glee,  in  which  Grace's  alto  would  persist 
in  getting  all  tangled  up  with  Hugh's  baritone,  and 
the  cat-calls  of  Rob's  bastard  bass  and  Scott's 
frantic  tenor  only  served  to  heighten  the  confusion, 
that  finally  collapsed  in  subdued  shrieks  of  laughter. 
But  when  Miss  Estill's  dainty  fingers  rippled  over 
the  guitar,  and  their  voices  blended  with  varying 
degrees  of  melody  as  its  twanging  notes  mingled 
with  the  mellow  tones  of  the  piano,  then  something 
like  harmony  prevailed  again.  Yet  she  and  Clifford 
would  still  exchange  amused  glances  whenever  Rob 
gave  vent  to  a  more  pronounced  caterwaul  than 
usual,  or  Scott's  gosling  tenor  squawked  a  wild  note 
of  alarm. 

"  Miss  Estill,  I  am  longing  to  hear  you  render 
a  Spanish  solo ;  for  I  never  can  help  the  picture  of 
a  Castilian  maiden  playing  amid  the  courts  of  the 
Alhambra,  rising  whenever  you  take  the  guitar," 
said  young  Warlow,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  My  broken  Spanish  would  soon  dispel  the  il 
lusion,"  she  replied,  with  a  soft  blush ;  "  but  I  will 
give  you,  instead,  a  poor  translation  of  a  Mexican 
song ;"  and  in  a  voice  rich  with  melody  and  feeling, 
she  sang:  — 

"  There  blooms  no  rose  upon  the  plain, 
But  costs  the  night  a  thousand  tears,"— 

while  the  guitar  rained  a  shower  of  soft-dripping 
music,  veined  with  a  thrill  of  sadness.  As  her 
bosom  rose  and  fell  with  the  sweet  strains,  the  ruby 
heart  which  clasped  the  ruff  at  her  slender  throat 


132  MYSTERY. 

flashed  rays  of  crimson  and  rose  in  the  stray  sun 
beams  that  glinted  through  the  room. 

Clifford  remained  rapt  in  a  reverie  as  the 
dreamy  music,  with  a  low  minor  ripple,  died  away, 
and  the  listeners  sat  in  silence  a  moment,  paying  a 
mute  tribute  to  the  graceful  singer  who  now  was 
idly  toying  with  the  guitar. 

One  white  arm  was  half  revealed  by  the  wide- 
flowing  sleeve,  with  its  fall  of  creamy  lace ;  a  clus 
ter  of  fuchsias  drooped  among  the  waves  of  her 
hair,  and  the  wide  ruff  gave  a  graceful  finish  to  the 
close-fitting  riding-habit  of  black  velvet  which 
she  wore. 

Young  Warlow  was  aroused  by  his  mother 
saying :  — 

;."  Miss  Estill,  the  colonel,  iny  husband." 

He  turned  quickly,  and  saw  his  father  standing 
in  the  doorway,  staring  as  if  he  had  seen  a  sheeted 
ghost.  Yes ;  it  was  undeniable  that  the  courtly 
and  urbane  colonel  was  positively  staring  with  a 
white  face  at  the  beautiful  guest,  and  as  he  came 
forward  he  said,  in  an  agitated  voice:  — 

"  Ivarene  ?  No  —  no  —  impossible  !  Pardon, 
Miss  Estill ;  but  your  face  reminds  me  so  strongly 
of  a  dear,  kind  friend,  '  who  passed  over  the  dark 
river  long  years  ago/  that  I  was  quite  unnerved ;" 
and  as  he  held  her  slender  hand  he  looked  hungrily 
into  the  blue  eyes  that  were  regarding  him  with  a 
look  of  shy  wonder.  When  Hugh  was  presented, 
the  colonel  glanced  keenly  from  the  blonde,  hazel- 
eyed  young  man  back  to  the  Creole  face  of  the  young 
lady,  and  he  again  murmured  brokenly,  and  in  an 


MYSTERY.  133 

incredulous  tone,  "  Brother  and  sister  ?  Strange — 
mystery !"  and  in  the  hearts  of  that  group  for  many 
a  day  echoed  and  re-echoed  his  words :  "  Mystery, 
mystery !" 

A  constraint  seemed  to  fall  immediately  upon 
the  inmates  of  the  room,  and  Maud,  perceiving  the 
traces  of  social  frost  in  the  atmosphere,  suggested 
that  they  should  take  a  look  at  her  flowers;  and 
the  guests  rose  and  followed  in  a  confused  group 
out  into  the  flower-garden,  that  was  surrounded 
with  a  low  stone  wall. 

The  paths,  which  divided  the  small  plat  into 
four  subdivisions,  were  interrupted  at  their  inter 
section  by  a  circular  path,  where  a  succession  of 
terraces  of  the  same  figure  rose  to  the  height  of  half 
a  dozen  feet,  the  whole  forming  a  circular  mound, 
crowned  by  a  tiny  latticed  arbor,  which  was  reached 
by  a  flight  of  white  stone  steps,  flanked  by  vases 
of  the  same  alabaster-like  material. 

The  terraces  were  sodded  with  the  dainty,  short 
buffalo-grass,  and  each  offset  was  planted  with  a 
profusion  of  flowers,  now  beginning  to  unfold  their 
blossoms.  This  unique  ornament  was  the  work  of 
Clifford  and  Robbie,  who  had  in  their  "  idle  "  mo 
ments  thus  transformed  the  unsightly  pile  of  earth, 
which  had  resulted  from  excavating  the  cellar,  into 
a  "hanging  garden  to  please  Maud/7  and  she  felt 
justly  proud  of  the  compliments  which  the  guests 
bestowed  on  the  attractive  feature  of  her  trim  garden, 
with  its  wealth  of  lilies,  roses,  and  gladioluses. 

Although  the  group  had  emerged  from  the  house 
in  a  confused  manner,  it  was  remarkable  how  soon 


134  MOCK   LOVERS. 

order  was  restored,  and  the  young  people  paired  off 
into  couples  after  the  law  of  affinity — Maud  and 
Ralph,  Grace  and  Hugh,  leaving  Clifford  and  Miss 
Estill  to  either  mate  with  Rob  and  Scott,  or  to  choose 
each  other  for  partners  in  the  ramble ;  and  it  is  also 
strange  how  quickly  they  chose  the  latter  alterna 
tive,  and  sauntered  away  with  appalling  sang-froid, 
leaving  those  youths  to  their  own  resources  without 
even  the  ghost  of  an  apology.  But  the  youngsters 
had  ample  revenge  for  this  heartless,  cold  neglect, 
when,  a  few  moments  later,  Rob  was  seen  leaning 
on  Scott's  arm  in  a  languishing  manner,  with  a 
hollyhock  perched  daintily  just  above  his  nose,  in 
semblance  of  a  most  coquettish  hat,  his  bob-tailed 
coat  embellished  with  an 'enormous  petticoat  of 
rhubarb-leaves,  while  Scott  alternately  cast  admir 
ing  glances  upon  his  frail  "  lady,"  or  fanned  the 
mock  Beauty  with  a  catalpa-leaf  fully  half  a  yard 
broad. 

And  while  Maud  and  Grace  regarded  their  ma 
noeuvres  with  furtive  scorn  and  ill-concealed  disgust, 
this  precious  pair  sauntered  conspicuously  after  their 
friends,  who  could  see  "  Miss  Rob  "  mince  along 
with  exaggerated  airs  and  graces,  often  pausing  to 
sniff  of  the  enormous  water-pot,  carried  in  imitation 
of  a  lady's  scent-bottle. 

Finally  the  party  eluded  the  persecution  of  this 
devoted  couple  by  going  back  into  the  house,  and 
ascending  to  the  "Crows'  Nest"  in  the  top  of  the 
old  elm;  and  as  Maud  recounted  the  thrilling  ad 
venture  of  the  "  flood,"  she  felt  certain  that  Rob 
was  too  well  acquainted  with  his  paternal  discipline 


ON   THE   WINDING   STREAM.  135 

to  venture  upon  any  nonsense  about  the  house.  But 
half  an  hour  later,  as  they  were  strolling  down  to 
the  boat,  the  party,  in  turning  an  abrupt  curve 
in  the  path,  surprised  the  infatuated  Scott  on  his 
knees  kissing  the  hand  of  the  shy  he-damsel,  who, 
with  aifected  modesty,  was  hiding  her  face  in  the 
dainty  fan  and  the  last  view  our  friends  caught  of 
them  while  rowing  up  the  river,  the  fascinating  Rob 
was  sinking  into  the  outstretched  arms  of  his  osten 
tatious  lover. 

Clifford  rowed  up  the  winding  stream,  which, 
although  only  a  few  feet  deep,  was  here  several 
rods  in  width.  As  they  passed  along,  an  old  beaver, 
which  had  built  a  dam  below,  stuck  its  snout  up 
through  the  tangled  grass  that  trailed  into  the  water ; 
then,  after  gazing  a  moment  at  the  intruders,  it 
sank  quietly  from  sight. 

The  pleasant  ride  suggested  a  boating  song,  and 
a  concert  followed,  which  scared  many  a  gray  old 
musk-rat  to  his  den,  and  the  frightened  wild-fowls 
scurried  with  whizzing  wings  out  from  the  dark, 
sedgy  nooks,  shaded  by  the  elms  and  willows,  as 
the  unwonted  sounds  floated  out  over  the  water. 

Our  friends  walked  up  to  Clifford's  dwelling, 
after  landing  and  mooring  the  boat  to  a  tree,  and 
while  they  rested  on  the  pale  ashen-green  buffalo- 
grass  in  the  shadow  of  a  mighty  elm  that  smoth 
ered  the  gables  of  the  stone  cottage  with  its  wide 
spread  branches,  Clifford  pointed  out  the  stone  wall, 
which  was  half  concealed  by  the  vines,  where  his 
father  had  so  narrowly  escaped  death  a  quarter  of 
a  century  before ;  and  as  they  sat,  he  told  of  the 


136  THE  "CALL"  LENGTHENS. 

terrible  tragedy  that  had  here  been  enacted,  which 
explained  why  Maud  had  so  tenderly  trained  the 
roses  over  the  ruined  wall — the  wall  that  had  shel 
tered  their  father  on  that  tragic  night. 

At  the  close  of  the  mournful  story  Miss  Estill 
exclaimed : — 

"  Oh,  what  a  cruel  fate.  Poor,  ill-starred  Iva- 
rene!  It  was  that  unfortunate  bride  that  I  so 
strangely  resemble.  But  how  mysterious  that  it 
should  be  so !  Now  I  do  not  wronder  at  your  father's 
agitation  at  meeting  one  who  reminded  him  of  his 
lost  friend  and  benefactress.  That  was  why  he  gazed 
so  pathetically  into  my  eyes: — I  recalled  the  days 
of  his  youth,  his  lost  fortune,  and  the  tragic  fate 
of  his  dear  friends." 

Hugh  Estill  said  : — 

"  Oh,  this  is  not  the  first  time  I  have  heard  the 
particulars  of  that  tragedy.  It  was  often  talked  of 
in  the  days  of  my  boyhood ;  but  I  was  a  child  at 
the  time  when  it  was  still  fresh  in  the  memory  of 
the  few  settlers  in  the  upper  valley  of  the  Cotton- 
wood.  It  was  fully  ten  years  after  the  event  that  I 
heard  the  version  from  one  of  our  herders,  who  said 
it  was  whispered  that  white  men  were  engaged  in 
the  massacre.  Father  was  unnecessarily  irritated, 
I  thought,  when  I  repeated  what  the  fellow  said, 
and  he  went  so  far  as  to  discharge  him,  and  forbade 
me  ever  mentioning  the  subject  again." 

"Your  parents  were  living  on  your  ranch  at 
that  time?"  said  Clifford,  in  a  strange  eager  tone  of 
inquiry. 

"Yes;  we  have  lived  on  the  same  place  for  the 


THE  "CALL"  LENGTHENS.  137 

past  twenty-seven  years,  and  both  Mora  and  myself 
were  born  on  the  old  ranch/'  replied  Hugh. 

After  remaining  rapt  in  silence  a  moment,  Miss 
Estill  said,  as  she  and  Clifford  stood  apart  from  the 
others,  while  he  stooped  to  gather  a  spray  of  the 
sensitive-plant : — 

"  What  is  this  strange,  haunting  sense  of  danger 
and  grief  that  always  assails  me  on  this  spot?  It 
is  like  the  dim  remembrance  of  some  tragic  event 
connected  with  my'own  life — a  half-forgotten  night 
mare,  as  it  were — the  very  elusiveness  of  which  is 
distressing  to  me.  I  feel  that  same  sensation  now 
which  I  mentioned  having  always  felt  on  this  spot, 
when  you  told  me  how  strangely  you  were  affected 
when  passing  Antelope  Butte." 

"  I  often  experience  that  peculiar  sentiment 
here,  also,  Miss  Estill, — a  kind  of  perception  or 
impression  of  some  dire  calamity  with  which  not 
only  myself,  but  you  likewise,  have  been  connected 
here,"  Clifford  replied  with  troubled  face. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  shall  mould  if  we  stay  in 
this  gloomy  shade  any  longer,"  cried  Grace,  spring 
ing  up  with  a  little  shiver;  but  the  bright  look 
which  young  Estill  beamed  upon  her  showed  plainly 
that  he,  at  least,  was  in  no  danger  of  such  a  blight 
ing  fate. 

It  was  a  beautiful  scene  that  burst  upon  their 
view  as  they  emerged  from  under  the  low,  sweeping 
boughs,  and  stood  in  the  sunlight  south  of  the 
gothic  cottage.  Around  the  knoll,  on  which  they 
were  standing,  purled  and  gurgled  the  stream, 
fringed  by  feathery  willows  and  stately  elms,  and, 


138  THE 

after  half  embracing  the  hill  in  its  tortuous  folds, 
winding  away  down  the  widening  valley.  Where 
the  timber,  which  skirted  the  serpentine  river,  grew 
in  groves  of  deepest  green,  there  the  stream  had 
expanded  into  placid  lakelets,  which  flashed  like 
silver  in  the  slanting  sunbeams. 

On  the  south,  in  the  smooth,  level  valley,  were 
fields  of  ripening  grain, — wheat  of  coppery  red  or 
creamy  gold,  silvery  sheen  of  rye  and  oats,  set  in  a 
frame  of  emerald  where  the  wild  prairies  came  sheer 
up  to  the  clear-cut  fields,  that  were  innocent  of  fence 
or  hedge.  Then  their  vision  roamed  out  to  the 
north,  where  the  rolling  hills  melted  away  on  the 
dim  horizon. 

As  they  stood  silently  gazing  on  the  tranquil 
landscape,  the  bell  in  the  latticed  belfry  of  the 
Warlow  homestead  rang  out  in  mellow  clang,  and 
Maud  said : — 

"Let's  return,  for  it  is  the  supper-bell.  I  do 
hope,  though,  that  mother  has  prepared  something 
more  substantial  for  her  guests  than  Clifford  has 
done  for  us  this  afternoon." 

"Why,  have  we  not  reveled  in  mystery?"  cried 
Grace. 

"And  feasted  on  landscape?"  said  Miss  Estill. 

"And  did  he  not  hospitably  entertain  us  with 
legend,  mellow  and  old?"  chimed  Ralph. 

"  Sorry  that  I  could  not  have  treated  you  to 
fresher  puns,"  retorted  Clifford,  laughingly. 

On  rowing  down  the  tranquil  stream,  and  com 
ing  once  more  into  the  shady  yard  of  the  Warlows, 
our  young  friends  found  the  tea-table  spread  under 


SPRING-CHICKEN  AND  MYSTERY.  139 

the  boughs  of  the  ever-serviceable  elm,  and  Rob 
and  Scott  busy  assisting  Mrs.  Warlow  with  the 
evening  meal. 

As  with  deft  fingers  Maud  culled  choice  bouquets 
from  her  garden,  and  decked  the  table,  she  felt  a 
thrill  of  pardonable  pride  in  the  snowy  damask, 
the  crystal  and  silver  that  glittered  with  the  polish 
of  good  housewifery,  and  the  tempting,  dainty 
dishes  which  her  mother  had,  with  true  Western 
hospitality,  prepared  in  honor  of  the  guests. 

Ah,  hungry  reader,  I  wish  that  you  could  have 
been  there  also ;  for  my  mouth  vainly  waters,  even 
yet,  at  the  remembrance  of  asparagus  and  green 
peas,  spring-chicken  smothered  in  cream  (which  I 
hasten  to  explain  was  not  the  fowl  of  boarding- 
house  memory  and  tradition,  with  which  the  frosts 
of  December  had  "  monkeyed ;"  no  barn-yard  cham 
pion  was  it,  with  cotton-like  breast  and  sinewy 
limb,  but  a  tender  daughter  of  the  May-time,  that 
had  perished  on  the  threshold  of  a  bright  young 
pullethood),  and  frosty  lemon-pie,  just  tinged 
writh  bronze,  flanked  by  the  crimson  moulds  of 
plum-jelly. 

An  hour  later,  in  the  gloomy  twilight,  as  the 
guests  were  taking  leave,  Miss  Estill  said: — 

"  Your  son  has  told  me  of  the  old  tragedy  that 
has  saddened  your  life,  Colonel;  but  it  is  very 
strange  that  I  should  resemble  that  ill-fated  Mex 
ican  bride." 

"Ah,  Miss  Estill,  every  hour  you  recall  the 
memory  of  my  lost  friends ;  just  such  a  daughter 
might  have  blessed  them,  if  they  had  lived,"  he 


140  SPRING-CHICKEN    AND   MYSTERY. 

replied,  with  a  sigh,  as  he  searched  the  young  face 
with  his  wistful  blue  eyes. 

"  It  is  only  a  chance  resemblance,  of  course — a 
mere  coincidence,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  of  un 
easiness.  "My  parents  were  living  here  at  the 
time  of  the  massacre;  but  I  never  have  heard 
of  the  dreadful  occurrence  until  to-day,"  she 
added. 

"  I  would  like  very  much  to  meet  your  father, 
and  talk  over  the  early  history  of  this  country," 
said  the  colonel,  eagerly.  "I  sometimes  find  my 
self  hoping  that  they  might  have  escaped,"  he 
continued,  in  a  half-musing  tone,  like  one  whose 
mind  is  wholly  engrossed  by  an  overmastering 
subject.  She  overlooked  his  incoherence,  know 
ing  well  that  he  referred  to  Bruce  and  Ivarene. 
"  Since  I  have  been  here  on  the  scene  of  the 
tragedy,  the  thought  often  recurs  that  I  took  it 
for  granted  that  they  perished,  and  have  trusted 
too  readily  to  circumstantial  evidence  in  confirma 
tion  of  that  belief." 

"How  strange  it  is  that  no  trace  of  that  enor 
mous  treasure  of  gold  and  gems  was  ever  obtained !" 
she  replied.  "But,  then,  the  horde  of  Cheyennes, 
which  Hugh  said  to-day  were  reported  as  having 
been  led  by  white  men,  found  it  an  easy  task 
enough,  no  doubt,  to  carry  away  even  that  great 
amount  of  coin  after  their  murderous  work." 

"Ah!  it  is  all  a  strange,  dark  mystery,"  he  re 
plied;  "and  to-day  it  is  more  impenetrable  than 
ever.  But  if  I  could  see  your  father  he  might 
remember." 


SPEING-CHICKEN   AND    MYSTERY.  141 

Here  the  colonel  paused  abruptly,  and  threw  up 
one  hand  with  an  involuntary  start,  and  Miss  Estill 
saw  by  the  faint  light  that  he  was  ashen  pale. 
But  as  the  others  were  now  passing  out  through 
the  gate,  she  reluctantly  shook  hands  with  the 
colonel,  who,  she  saw,  was  trembling  with  re 
pressed  emotion ;  and  then  she  took  leave  of  the 
other  members  of  the  family,  vaguely  wondering 
why  the  courtly  old  gentleman  should  be  so  affected 
by  events  which  had  occurred  more  than  a  quarter 
of  a  century  before. 

When,  an  hour  later,  Clifford  returned  from 
Squire  Moreland's,  whither  he  had  accompanied 
Miss  Estill,  he  was  accosted  by  Rob  in  the  fol 
lowing  vein :  — 

"What's  up,  Cliff?" 

"Up  where?"  replied  his  brother,  evasively. 

"On  the  porch,  if  you  have  eyes  for  anything 
less  attractive  than  a  young  lady  with  a  mop  of 
blue  hair,"  said  the  indignant  Rob. 

"  Oh — father  and  mother !  Why,  I  can  7t  see 
anything  strange  in  our  parents  sitting  on  the 
porch,"  replied  his  brother,  in  a  tone  of  feigned 
indifference. 

"  Well,  but  they  have  had  their  heads  together 
and  been  plotting  for  an  hour;  but  Maud  keeps  up 
such  an  everlasting  racket  with  her  singing  and 
dish-clattering  that  I  can  7t  hear  a  word  they  say. 
That  girl  positively  is  noisier  than  a  fire-engine. 
Now,  just  listen  at  that!"  as  Maud's  voice  sang  in 
sweet  crescendo : — 

"Stars  are  shining,  Mollie  darling."     (Crash,  rattle.) 


142  SPRING-CHICKEN   AND   MYSTERY. 

Mrs.  Warlow.—"Do  you  think  it  possible  that 
they  were  saved?" 

Maud  (diminuendo). — 
"Through  the  mystic  veil  of  night."     (Rinkety-clink.) 

Colonel. — "She    may   be    their    daughter,    who 
survived."     (Splatter.) 
Maud  (piano). — 

"  No  one  listens  but  the  flowers, 
As  they  hang  their  heads  in  shame."     (Klinkety-klink.) 

Eob.— 

11  Yes,  Mips  Maud,  you  noisy  magpie. 
I  hang  ditto  and  the  same." 

Clifford.— "If  you  don't  keep  quiet,  I'll—" 
(Klutter-terattle-tering.) 

Coffee-mill,  etc. — "  Kr-rrrrr-r-rrr  (Mollie)  r-r-r 
(dar)  rrrr-r-rrrr." 

Colonel. — "She  is  the  very  image  of  Ivarene; 
and  I  am  almost  converted  to  Bruce's  strange 
creed  when  I  see  them." 

Maud  (at  the  well). — "  Ke-pump,  ke-pump,  ke- 
pump !" 

Colonel. — "  I  saw  them  together  to-day.     I  was 
perfectly  bewildered ;  for  they  are  the  very  picture 
of  Bruce  and  Ivarene  on  their  wedding-day." 
Maud. — 

"Mollie,  fairest,  sweetest,  dearest! 
Look  up,  darling,  tell  me  this — " 
Rob.— 

11  Miss  Maud  Warlow,  you  're  a  bull-frog, 
And  I  'd  like  to  have  a  hook  in  your  nose." 

But,  as  his  rhyme  ended  wTith  such  an  ignomin 
ious  fizzle,  he  hurried  away  with  a  snort  of  disgust. 


SPRING-CHICKEN   AND   MYSTERY.  143 

Clifford  lingered  a  moment,  hoping  to  hear  more; 
but  his  parents  rose  soon  after,  and  entered  the 
house ;  so,  in  a  thoughtful  mood,  he  went  about  his 
farm  duties. 

Out  in  the  wheat  a  quail  called  "  Bob  White/' 
while  down  in  the  pasture  a  flock  of  prairie- 
chickens  or  grouse  disturbed  the  twilight  calm 
with  their  melancholy  "  ku-boom ;"  but,  as  tne 
evening  faded  into  night,  the  quiet  of  early  slum 
ber  brooded  over  the  Warlow  household. 


144  FALSE   RICHES. 


Chapter  XII. 

THE  week  which  followed  brought  sad  tidings 
to  the  Warlow  family.  A  black-bordered 
letter  came,  bearing  the  post-mark  of  San  Fran 
cisco  ;  but  before  it  was  opened  the  family  knew  its 
import. 

Mrs.  Warlow's  only  brother,  William,  had  been 
in  the  mines  for  several  years,  but  since  his  health 
had  failed  he  had  been  making  the  great  coast  city 
his  home;  and,  although  grieved  at  the  announce 
ment  of  his  death,  they  were  not  unprepared  for  the 
sad  news. 

The  lawyer  wrote  that  he  held  a  few  thousand 
dollars  of  the  deceased's  money,  which  was  left  by 
the  will  to  Mrs.  Warlow,  and  they  were  also  in 
formed  that  the  "Redwood"  mine  was  left  to 
Robbie,  who  was  a  great  favorite  with  his  uncle ; 
but  this  latter  property  was  as  yet  unproductive, 
though  the  attorney  conveyed  an  intimation  that  it 
might  some  day  prove  very  valuable,  as  there  were 
mines  of  fabulous  richness  near  by. 

Soon  the  rumor  went  flying  through  the  colony 
that  the  Warlows  had  fallen  heirs  to  an  immense 
estate,  and  as  usual  the  report  lost  nothing  by 
traveling;  so  our  friends  soon  found  themselves  in 
vested  by  the  halo  of  riches  without  any  of  its  sub 
stantial  benefits. 

Speculations  and  conjectures  were  rife  among  the 


FALSE   RICHES.  145 

neighbors  as  to  the  "  best  manner  of  investing  their 
friend  Warlow's  fortune ;"  and,  in  fact,  it  became 
impossible  for  any  member  of  the  colonel's  family 
to  meet  an  acquaintance  without  being  informed  of 
some  great  opening  for  a  judicious  investment,  that 
was  only  waiting  capital  and  enterprise  to  develop 
the  fact  that  there  was  "  millions  in  it." 

As  Clifford  paused  one  day  to  discuss  the  state 
of  the  weather  in  a  neighborly  way  with  a  male 
member  of  this  well-meaning  but  misguided  class, 
he  learned  that  all  the  vast  tract  of  vacant  land  to 
the  north,  which  still  belonged  to  the  government, 
had  been  condemned  as  being  "  unfit  for  agricul 
tural  purposes/'  and  would  be  "offered"  at  public 
sale  the  following  August  at  the  local  land-office. 

When  young  Warlow  parted  with  his  informant 
the  matter  was  dismissed  ;  but  whenever  he  glanced 
away  to  the  north  or  east  at  the  billowy  hills  and 
level,  rich  dales,  he  would  begin  planning  how  he 
could  secure  a  tract  of  the  land  before  it  passed 
into  the  hands  of  relentless  speculators ;  and  one 
day  he  actually  rode  out  over  the  fertile,  picturesque 
country  for  miles,  and  with  a  blush  found  himself 
dreaming  how  that  long,  narrow  valley  should  be 
sown  to  grain,  and  the  galloping  hills,  clothed  with 
rich  grasses,  could  provide  pasturage  for  his  vast, 
imaginary  flocks  and  herds. 

Alas,  that  the  lack  of  a  few  handfuls  of  "  filthy 
lucre"  only,  stood  between  himself  and  the  owner 
ship  of  the  broad  acres  on  every  hand  !  With  a 
dreary  sigh  he  realized,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
how  bitter  is  the  lot  of  the  poor  but  ambitious  man, 

13 


146  A   YOUNG   FORTUNE   HUNTER. 

who  sees  the  avenues  to  wealth  barred  by  his  lack 
of  capital. 

As  he  stood  on  the  spot  where  his  father  had 
lost  his  fortune  so  many  years  before,  Clifford 
thought  how  many  hundred  thousand  acres  of  that 
rolling,  fertile  country  the  lost  wealth  represented ; 
and  while  his  horse  grazed  quietly  near,  the  youth 
threw  himself  down  in  the  cool  shadow  of  the  ruined 
wall,  dreaming  and  planning  how  he  might  recover 
the  vast  wealth  that  he  had  long  suspected  was 
buried  here  near  the  scene  of  the  tragedy. 

But  when  he  calmly  began  to  analyze  the  evi 
dence  on  which  his  suspicions  were  based,  he  was 
disappointed  to  see  how  visionary  it  all  seemed  in 
the  clear  light  of  reason.  But  it  was  too  dear  and 
cherished  a  theory  to  be  relinquished  without  a 
mental  struggle;  so  again  he  began  to  persuade  him 
self  that  those  scheming  white  men,  of  whom  young 
Estill  had  spoken — those  inhuman  villains — might 
have  secreted  the  gold  from  the  drunken  Indians, 
and  it  might  have  been  that  the  blood-stained, 
avaricious  leaders  had  died  a  violent  death  in  those 
turbulent  days,  and  the  great  wealth  was  still  sleep 
ing,  undisturbed,  all  these  years,  while  his  father 
was  suffering  under  the  heavy  load  of  poverty  and 
fallen  fortune.  As  Clifford  still  mused,  there  flashed 
across  his  mind  the  lines  of  Rokeby : — 

"Then  dig  and  tomb  your  precious  heap, 
And  bid  the  dead  your  treasure  keep." 

Springing  to  his  feet,  young  "VVarlow  cried  aloud  in 
his  excitement : — 

"Ah !  it  is  all  clear  now — the  blood  on  the  grass 


THE   SANTA    FE   TRAIL.  147 

and  the  newly  made  graves,  of  which  Uncle  Roger 
spoke !  Yes,  yes — they  buried  the  dead  and  the 
gold  in  the  same  grave,  and  then  decoyed  the 
savages  away  !  It  may  be  that  those  bright 
doubloons,  the  red  gold  of  the  Walravens  and  my 
father,  are  buried  but  a  few  steps  from  where  I 
stand." 

Flinging  aside  doubt  and  uncertainty,  he  hurried 
down  the  hill  to  the  spot  where  his  father  had  said 
the  treasure-laden  vehicle  had  stood  on  that  fatal 
night,  and  long  and  eagerly  young  Warlow  searched 
for  a  trace  of  the  graves.  But  it  was  all  in  vain ; 
for  the  vast  tide  of  travel  that  had  flowed  for  a 
quarter  of  a  century  over  the  spot  had  not  only  ob 
literated  all  trace  of  those  lowly  mounds,  but  had 
also  worn  the  mellow  soil  into  deep  gullies,  down 
the  sloping  sides  of  which  the  knotted  buifalo-grass 
crept  like  webs  of  pale-green  lace. 

In  the  old  trail,  where  once  the  cannon  of  Phil 
Kearney  had  rumbled,  as  with  his  army  he  hurried 
forward  to  Santa  Fe,  and  along  where  Coronado, 
Lee,  Fremont,  and  Kit  Carson  had  ridden,  now  the 
wild  mignonette,  in  spikes  of  purple,  fragrant  blos 
soms,  grew,  loading  the  sultry  air  with  their  rich 
odors.  The  sensitive-rose,  its  fern-like  foliage 
tufted  with  rosy  balls  of  gold-flecked  down,  closed 
its  leaves  as  Clifford  hurriedly  brushed  by;  but  in 
the  tangled  thickets  of  wild  indigo,  now  blooming 
in  sprays  of  violet  and  creamy  flowers,  or  among 
the  tall,  lush,  blue  stem-grass  the  young  "  fortune 
hunter"  found  no  traces  of  the  lost  wealth — no 
sunken  graves  were  visible  to  tell  of  that  tragedy 


148  THE   SANTA   FE   TRAIL. 

of  long  ago;  so  it  was  with  a  slow  step  and  feeling 
of  despondency  that  our  friend  sought  the  shelter 
of  his  latticed  porch. 

While  he  sat,  lost  in  speculation  as  to  the  best 
method  of  prosecuting  his  search,  which  he  was  too 
resolute  to  give  up  easily,  his  eyes  rested  on  an  im 
plement  that  at  a  glance  showed  its  adaptability  for 
the  very  purpose.  It  was  a  long  rod  of  iron,  tipped 
with  twisted  steel.  He  remembered  having  had  it 
made  the  year  before  for  the  men  who  were  searching 
for  a  vein  of  water  before  sinking  his  wells.  As  he 
seized  it  eagerly,  and  started  once  again  down  the 
hill,  he  felt  gratified  and  elated  to  perceive  how 
easily  he  could  now  test  the  earth  to  the  depth  of 
five  feet,  and  ascertain  if  there  was  any  foreign  sub 
stance  in  the  mellow,  loamy  soil,  which  throughout 
the  valley  was  a  bed  of  rich,  black  loam,  entirely 
free  from  stone  or  boulders. 

He  had  but  reached  the  spot  near  the  river, 
when  he  saw  his  father  riding  through  the  wheat- 
field  toward  where  our  young  schemer  stood  ;  and 
hastily  tossing  the  iron  rod  into  a  thicket,  Clifford 
met  his  father  with  an  assumption  of  careless  in 
difference  ;  for  all  his  allusions  in  the  past  to  the 
lost  fortune  had  only  met  with  the  sarcastic  disap 
proval  of  his  parent,  who,  being  an  intensely  prac 
tical  man  himself,  could  not  tolerate  any  thing  so 
visionary  as  a  search  for  the  treasure  seemed  to  be ; 
and  young  Warlow  had  decided  to  keep  his  investi 
gations  secret,  thus  avoiding  the  censure  and  ridi 
cule  of  the  colonel.  After  a  brief  discussion  in 


THE  SANTA   FE   TKAIL.  149 

regard    to    the    condition    of    the    ripening    grain, 
Clifford  remarked :  — 

"  It  seems  very  strange,  father,  that  no  trace  can 
be  found  of  those  graves  which  Uncle  Roger  men 
tioned  having  seen  near  the  Old  Corral,  when  he 
found  you  after  the  robbery  and  massacre." 

"  This  is  too  busy  a  time  for  us  to  speculate  on 
the  past,  my  boy.  The  wheat  has  ripened  splen 
didly — I  never  saw  a  field  to  equal  that  valley 
yonder — and  we  will  have  to  start  the  header  to 
morrow  ;  so  if  you  will  ride  out  on  to  the  Flats  and 
engage  three  more  teams,  I  will  go  down  to  Squire 
Moreland's  and  tell  them  we  shall  begin  early  in 
the  morning/'  said  the  colonel. 

"  But,  father,  first  tell  me  as  nearly  as  possible 
where  those  graves  were  located;  for  I  have  a 
strange  curiosity  regarding  them  of  late.  It  must 
be  near  this  very  spot?" 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  near  that  old  cotton  wood-tree,  or  on* 
the  level  space  of  sod  just  this  side.  But  Clifford," 
continued  he  in  a  tone  of  suspicion  quite  foreign  to 
the  kindly  colonel,  "  what  nonsense  are  you  medi 
tating  now?  You  are  not  still  counting  on  that 
lost  fortune?" 

"  Well,  father,  there  has  been  a  growing  belief 
in  my  mind  of  late  that  the  treasure  is  secreted  near 
here.  Think  how  impossible  it  would  have  been 
for  a  leader  of  such  a  band  as  those  savages  were, 
to  divide  the  booty  satisfactorily  among  the  pack  of 
drunken  monsters.  If  the  leader  had  the  acumen 
that  I  believe  he  possessed,  he,  no  doubt,  buried  the 


150  SEARCHING  FOR  THE  GOLD  OF  MONTELUMA. 

gold,  at  least,  in  one  of  those  graves  while  the  others 
were  stupefied  by  the  liquor;  and  there  is  a  chance 
that  he  may  never  have  returned,  owing  to  the  dan 
gers  to  which  such  turbulent  villains  are  always  ex 
posed.  I  have  thought  this  over  carefully,  until  at 
last  I  am  convinced — " 

"  That  your  father  has  a  damned  fool  for  a  son  !" 
broke  in  the  colonel  hotly,  as  he  rode  away. 

After  supper  Clifford  said  he  would  go  up  to  his 
house  and  spend  the  night — an  announcement  which 
caused  no  surprise,  as  he  frequently  stayed  there  ; 
but  on  this  occasion  Robbie  remarked  to  Maud :  — 

"  Cliff  must  be  schooling  his  courage  by  staying 
of  nights  up  at  that  old  spook-ranch ;  but  a  fel 
low  who  can  stand  that,  could  pop  the  question  to 
the  witch  of  Macbeth  without  faltering." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  his  popping  the  question, 
Rob?"  said  Maud,  setting  her  pail  of  foamy  milk 
down  on  the  cellar-steps,  while  she  regarded  the 
handsome  youth  with  a  puzzled  look  from  her 
round,  blue  eyes. 

"Why  just  this,"  he  replied,  after  "swigging" 
down  a  pint  of  fresh  milk  from  his  own  pail,  and 
deliberately  wiping  his  lips  with  his  shirt-sleeve; 
"  Cliff  has  got  more  sand  in  his  gizzard  than  most 
fellows ;  but  I  guess  he  feels  too  poor,  or  something, 
to  talk  marry  to  Mora  Estill,  so  he  goes  mooning 
off  up  there  to  that  old  spectre's  nest — just  like 
fellows  do  in  novels,  you  know,"  he  added,  lucidly. 

But  here  the  peremptory  tones  of  his  father 
called  the  young  philosopher  to  take  the  colts  down 
to  the  lower  pasture. 


SEARCHING  FOR  THE  GOLD  OF  MONTELUMA.  151 

When  Clifford  arrived  at  his  dwelling  he  pre 
pared  several  stakes,  and  fastened  bits  of  white 
paper  to  their  tops ;  then,  securing  the  iron  rod,  he 
placed  it  with  the  small  sticks,  which  he  had  left 
in  the  porch,  and  sought  the  dainty  and  comforta 
ble  bed  which  he  owed  to  the  thoughtful  kindness 
of  Maud  and  his  mother. 

Sinking  into  a  profound  slumber,  he  was  only 
awakened  by  the  alarm  which  sounded  as  the  clock 
struck  one.  As  its  chime  died  away,  he  arose  and 
stole  forth  into  the  tranquil  night. 

A  waning  moon  had  risen,  and  in  its  faint  light 
the  water  of  the  brook  glimmered  coldly  as  it  wim 
pled  over  the  stony  ford.  The  fluttering  leaves  of 
the  old  cottonwood  flashed  like  silver,  and  the 
hoary  form  of  the  great  tree,  every  limb  of  which 
seemed  outlined  in  white,  towered  vague  and 
ghostly  above  the  shadows  cast  by  the  more  dense 
foliage  of  ash  and  willows. 

Clifford  paused  in  the  level  glade  where  his 
father  had  said  the  graves  must  have  been  when 
Roger  Coble  passed  the  spot  twenty-six  years  be 
fore.  Thrusting  the  rod  deep  into  the  soft,  loamy 
soil,  young  Warlow  threw  his  whole  weight  on  the 
instrument,  which  penetrated  to  the  depth  of  sev 
eral  feet  with  little  difficulty.  On  meeting  with  no 
obstruction,  he  withdrew  the  rod;  and  after  mark 
ing  the  spot  with  one  of  the  stakes  which  he  had 
provided,  he  began  again  to  prosecute  the  search 
one  step  further  south. 

The  precaution  of  marking  the  place  where  he 
had  sunk  the  rod  was  for  the  purpose  of  system- 


152  SEARCHING  FOB  THE  GOLD  OF  MONTELUMA. 

atizing  the  search,  thus  avoiding  confusion.  In 
fact,  these  careful  details  were  but  an  indication 
of  the  practical  nature  of  the  young  Fortune 
Hunter,  which,  even  on  this  weird  night,  strongly 
asserted  its  sway. 

While  the  leaves  murmured  and  whispered,  as 
if  striving  to  tell  of  the  tragedies  that  had  marred 
this  spot — of  the  mystery  that  seemed  to  haunt  the 
very  air  around — Clifford  still  pursued  his  investi 
gations,  patiently  and  in  silence,  only  pausing  to 
draw  a  deeper  breath  or  a  sigh  of  disappointment 
at  each  fruitless  effort,  as  he  toiled  onward  into  the 
deep  shadows  near  the  bank  of  the  stream. 

At  length,  tired  and  weary,  our  young  friend 
stood  on  the  verge  of  the  stream  over  the  bank  of 
which  the  dank  grass  trailed,  and  the  rank  vine  of 
the  wild-gourd,  with  its  silvery  leaves,  rioted  in 
wildest  luxuriance  and  profusion. 

Glancing  up  through  the  branches  of  the  hoary 
old  cottonwood,  he  could  see  the  glittering  constel 
lation  of  Scorpio  far  out  on  the  south-western 
horizon,  the  fiery  star  Antares,  which  forms  its 
heart,  glowing  like  a  ruby  in  the  blue  vault  of 
heaven. 

For  a  moment  Clifford  rested  on  the  handle  of 
the  deep-sunken  instrument,  and,  lifting  his  heavy 
felt  hat  with  its  leathern  band — a  badge  of  the 
ranchman  throughout  all  the  West — he  drew  a 
deep  breath  of  the  cool  air  that  swayed  the  wild 
hop-vines  and  pendulous  branches  of  the  willows 
to  and  fro  in  the  moonlight. 

Around,  a  thousand  wild-flowers  distilled  their 


SEARCHING  FOR  THE  GOLD  OF  MONTELUMA.  153 

odors.  The  sensitive-plant  nodded  softly  in  dew- 
drenched  sprays,  its  rosy  balls  flecked  with  drops 
that  glinted  like  gems,  while  all  the  air  was  heavy 
with  its  perfume  of  spices  and  honey. 

The  foamy  elder-blooms  exhaled  an  odor  of 
entrancing  sweetness,  and  over  the  senses  stole  the 
fragrance  from  pond-lilies  and  water-mint,  wild- 
hyacinths  and  mignonette. 

A  large  prairie-owl  flitted  by,  lending  a  note 
of  discord  to  the  tranquillity  which  had  reigned, 
with  its  dismal  hoot,  that  mellowed  away  into  a 
plaintive  shriek  as  it  lit  in  some  far-off,  som 
bre  nook. 

Then  again  silence  brooded  over  the  valley, 
broken  only  by  the  croak  of  frogs  along  the  rush- 
lined  shore,  or  the  soft  chirp  of  insects  in  the 
grass;  but  suddenly  the  jabbering  wail  of  a  lone 
wolf,  distant  yet  distinct,  pierced  through  the 
gloom,  startling  into  silence  all  the  minor  voices 
of  the  night,  and  adding  with  its  wild  echoes  a 
double  sense  of  loneliness  to  the  weird  night. 

Clifford  turned  to  the  iron  rod,  and  with  a  few 
vigorous  efforts  sent  it  deep  into  the  yielding  earth ; 
and  as  the  quiet  of  nature  once  more  reigned  over 
the  wild  glade,  he  kept  turning  the  handle  mechan 
ically,  and  listening  to  the  gruesome  sound  of  the 
answering  wolves — faint  cries  that  made  him  shud 
der — when,  lo !  the  ,steel  point  grated  harshly 
against  some  obstruction  beneath  his  feet. 

Quickly  withdrawing  the  rod,  he  seized  the 
sharp  spade  and  began  digging,  throwing  the  black 
soil  out  of  the  pit  with  frantic  haste  as  he  sank 

14 


154  SEAECHING  FOR  THE  GOLD  OF  MOKTELTJMA. 

rapidly  down  into  the  earth  at  each  stroke.  As 
he  neared  the  goal  he  became  dizzy  and  faint,  his 
breath  coming  in  quick  gasps,  and  the  blinding 
sweat  streaming  from  his  face,  from  which  it  fell 
in  great  drops  like  rain. 

Pausing  a  moment,  while  the  weird,  horned 
moon  peered  through  a  rift  in  the  boughs  over 
head,  and  gleamed  coldly  on  his  upturned,  haggard 
face,  he  thought  of  the  wealth  that  might  lie  be 
low, — his  father's  lost  fortune;  the  wealth  of  Mon- 
teluma;  its  gems  and  red  gold,  with  all  the  power 
that  great  treasure  represented;  then,  quivering 
with  excitement,  he  dashed  the  spade  into  the 
earth,  and  in  a  moment  more  the  head  of  a  cask 
was  dimly  outlined  at  his  feet. 

Breathless  and  panting,  he  paused,  leaning  on 
his  spade,  while  the  hopes  and  fears,  which  so 
often,  often,  assail  us  on  the  threshold  of  some 
great  enterprise,  came  thronging  on  with  their 
mockery,  causing  him  to  stand  irresolute,  as  if 
fearing  to  solve  the  mystery;  but  at  length,  after 
summoning  all  his  strength,  he  struck  the  cask 
with  his  sharp  spade,  and  the  head  fell  in  with  a 
dull  crash. 

As  he  stooped  to  peer  down  into  the  gloom 
below,  a  pair  of  fiery  eyes  glared  at  him  from  the 
cavity,  and,  as  he  sprang  back  with  a  shudder,  a 
sharp,  whizzing  rattle  in  the  cask  announced  the 
presence  of  that  dread  reptile,  the  rattlesnake — a 
new  and  terrible  danger,  worse  than  the  sting  of 
poverty  with  all  its  terrors. 

As  Clifford  stood  frozen  with  horror,  the  slimy 


THE   STARE   OF   DEATH.  155 

monster  rose  from  out  the  cask,  still  sounding  its 
angry  alarm.  A  moment  more,  enraged  and  writh 
ing,  it  coiled  at  his  feet,  its  head  erected,  slowly 
swaying  to  and  fro — a  gigantic,  threatening  monster. 

Its  eyes  glowed  like  coals  of  fire,  and  in  the 
bright  light  shed  by  the  lantern  Clifford  could 
see  it  darting  its  tongue  and  glaring  with  a  look 
of  indescribable  ferocity  and  malignant  hatred,  to 
which  nothing  else  in  the  world  can  be  compared. 
Those  who  have  faced  an  angry  rattlesnake,  and 
who  still  turn  pale  at  its  remembrance,  or  start 
from  sleep  with  a  cry  of  fear  at  the  returning 
vision  of  terrible  danger,  will  recall  the  awful 
rage  and  menace  that  glared  from  the  eye  of  the 
angry  serpent — a  glance  that  unnerves  the  bravest 
man  in  the  world  instantly.  The  reptile  only 
seemed  to  await  a  motion  on  Clifford's  part  to 
strike  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  Then,  with  a 
clammy  shudder,  young  Warlow  thought  of  the 
agony  and  speedy  death  that  was  certain  to  follow. 
At  the  tremor  which  involuntarily  shook  his  frame 
at  the  thought,  the  hideous  serpent  crested  its  head 
and  paused  in  its  vibrations.  "Now  all  is  over," 
our  young  friend  thought,  and  breathlessly  awaited 
the  shock. 

Instantly  the  face  of  Mora  Estill  rose  before 
him,  a  fleeting  vision  of  loveliness;  and  with  it 
came  a  realization  of  the  love  for  her  that  had 
rapidly  grown  into  an  all-absorbing  passion  in  their 
short  acquaintance.  He  knew  at  once  what  had 
sent  him  out  on  this  midnight  search,  and  why  he 
had  begun  to  wish  for  wealth  so  eagerly  of  late : — 


156  THE  STARE   OF   DEATH. 

It  was  because  he  craved  fortune  and  a  position 
which  would  equal  that  of  the  "  Cattle  King's " 
daughter.  Yet  even  in  this  moment  of  deadliest 
peril  he  thought,  with  a  grim  smile,  of  the  irony 
of  fate — the  reward  of  his  first  attempt  at  "  fortune 
hunting." 

While  death  stared  at  him  from  those  glaring 
eyes,  and  the  moments  seemed  to  lengthen  out  to 
years,  he  thought  of  his  friends  at  home,  all  uncon 
scious  of  the  dire  fate  that  he  was  facing ;  then  a 
wild  longing  for  life  seized  him,  and  for  the  first 
time  since  the  encounter  he  began  to  plan  a  way 
of  escape. 

The  spade  on  which  his  hand  rested  was  sharp 
and  bright ;  but  to  raise  it  before  the  serpent  could 
strike  he  knew  was  impossible ;  so  he  stood  immov 
ably  eying  the  formidable  reptile,  which  at  length 
slowly  uncoiled  and  glided  away  from  his  feet  to  an 
opposite  corner  of  the  pit.  With  a  sigh  of  relief 
Clifford  saw  that  the  danger  was  lessened,  yet  he 
began  to  more  fully  realize  the  size  of  his  deadly 
antagonist,  which  now  reached  twice  across  the 
yard-wide  pit. 

In  moments  of  great  danger  we  are  apt  to  think 
with  lightning-like  rapidity,  and  quickly  see  any 
advantage  that  may  arise.  So  it  was  with  Clifford, 
who  remembered  that  the  rattlesnake  always  throws 
itself  into  a  coil  before  striking ;  and  as  he  saw  it 
thus  off  its  guard,  with  a  quick  movement  he  struck 
a  violent  blow  at  the  snake's  head  and  pinioned  it 
to  the  earth — then  throwing  his  full  weight  on  the 
handle  he  felt  the  bones  crunch  beneath  the  sharp 


AN    EMPTY   CASK!  157 

blade,  while  the  reptile  madly  threshed  its  now 
headless  body  about  and  wrapped  its  jangling  tail 
around  his  boot. 

Springing  out  of  the  pit,  with  a  desperate  leap, 
young  Warlow  disengaged  the  writhing,  heavy  mon 
ster  from  his  foot,  and  with  the  iron  rod  threw  it 
away  into  the  grass;  then  sinking  down  upon  the 
ground,  unnerved  and  exhausted,  he  lay,  too  weak 
to  move  for  several  minutes.  But  when  he  remem 
bered  the  unexplored  cask,  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
again,  and  after  listening  cautiously  a  moment,  and 
hearing  no  further  evidence  of  danger,  he  dropped 
lightly  down  into  the  pit,  carelessly  tramping  on 
the  grim  serpent-head  that  but  a  few  moments 
before  was  so  full  of  threatening  danger. 

Anxiously  he  thrust  the  long  rod  down  into  the 
cask.  No  rattle  responded ;  but  the  despairing  fact 
became  apparent :  the  cask  was  empty ! 

With  a  sinking  heart  he  groped  about  the 
bottom  of  the  cask  with  the  rod,  and  when  its  iron 
point  struck  against  a  round  object  that  rolled  over 
with  a  harsh  sound  on  the  bottom,  he  quickly  thought 
of  the  casket  of  gems,  and  reaching  down,  with  a 
thrill  of  excitement  he  clutched  the  mysterious, 
smooth  object,  and  sprang  out  of  the  pit  into  the 
moonlight. 

By  the  pale  beams  of  the  gibbous  moon,  now 
sinking  low  in  the  western  sky,  but  throwing  a 
path  of  shimmering  silver  on  the  bosom  of  the 
rippling  brook,  he  saw — not  the  gems  of  Monteluma, 
but  a  human  skull,  that,  with  its  wide,  eyeless 
sockets,  seemed  to  glare  derisively,  and  with  great 


158  THE   GRAY  SPECTRE. 

white  teeth  laugh  mockingly,  at  this  ending  of  his 
"  fortune  hunting."  With  a  cry  of  despair,  the  dis 
heartened  youth  dashed  the  loathsome  object  to  the 
earth ;  but,  as  if  the  sound  of  his  voice  had  evoked 
its  former  spirit,  there  glided  from  out  the  waver 
ing  shadows  a  tall,  gaunt  form,  gray-robed  and 
silent,  with  tangled,  flowing  hair,  and  burning  eyes, 
its  lips  drawn  back  from  its  snaggled  fangs  in  a 
horrid  look  of  hate  and  ferocity.  With  noiseless 
tread  it  seemed  to  float  into  the  moonlit  space ;  then 
snatching  the  skull  from  the  ground  and  clasping 
it  close  to  its  breast,  with  an  unearthly  scream  it 
faded  away  among  the  whispering  willows. 


TERRIFYING   DREAMS.  159 


Chapter  XIII. 

ON  the  morning  following  that  Walpurga  Night, 
Clifford  came  down  to  the  Warlow  breakfast- 
table  with  a  weary,  feverish  air,  that  caused  his 
father  to  say : — 

"  My  boy,  you  are  far  from  well,  I  fear !  This 
first  day  of  harvest  will  be  quite  hard  on  all  of  us ; 
the  clay  promises  to  be  hot  and  sultry ;  so  perhaps 
you  had  better  rest  in-doors.  We  might  send 
Robbie  over  on  the  Flats,  and  secure  you  a  substi 
tute  until  you  are  stronger." 

At  this  poor  Rob  mumbled  something  about 
"a  sixteen-year-old  boy  having  more  legs  than  a 
centipede;"  a  remark  which  he  was  careful  to  ad 
dress  to  his  plate,  however,  while  Clifford  replied  : — 

"Oh  no,  father;  a  cup  of  Maud's  coffee  will  set 
me  all  right,  I  am  certain."  Then,  as  he  poured  a 
quantity  of  yellow  cream  into  the  cup  of  fragrant 
Rio,  he  added :  "  I  was  wakeful  and  did  not  rest 
well  last  night ;"  all  of  which  we  know  was  correct, 
if  somewhat  evasive. 

"Oh,  Cliff!  I  had  the  most  terrifying  dreams 
last  night,  in  which  you  were,  some  way,  always 
mixed  up,"  said  Maud  wearily;  " and  although  I 
can  Jt  remember  anything  distinctly,  I  am  so  nervous 
that  I  shiver  even  yet." 

"  So,  madam,  you  feed  the  hungry  harvester  on 
Cold  Shudder,  garnished  with  scrambled  Night- 


160  A    WESTERN   WHEAT-FIELD. 

mare,"  said  Rob,  with  a  glance  of  contempt  at  the 
bacon  and  early  potatoes,  of  which  even  his  rav 
enous  appetite  was  now  weary.  Then,  as  he  broke 
an  egg  that  was  shockingly  overdone,  he  added 
spitefully :  "  Why  did  you  boil  your  door-knobs  ?" 

"  I  spent  a  weary,  restless  night,  also,"  said  Mrs. 
Warlow,  ignoring  Robbie's  sarcasm.  "  I  was  so 
vaguely  uneasy  about  you,  Clifford,  that  I  shall 
object  to  your  staying  alone  at  the  corral  hereafter." 

"  Alone,  nothing !"  said  Rob.  "  I  guess,  by  the 
way  he  goes  fishing  about  of  late,  he  will  soon  find 
some  one  to  keep  him  company,"  he  added,  with  a 
knowing  giggle,  at  which  Clifford  tried  to  look  un 
concerned,  while  Maud  and  her  mother  exchanged 
pleased  and  amused  glances. 

After  breakfast  Clifford  drove  the  header  to  the 
wheat-field,  which  soon  presented  an  animated  and 
busy  scene.  The  great  machine  was  pushed  by 
four  horses,  which  were  guided  by  young  Warlow, 
who  stood  behind  on  a  small  platform,  and  steered 
the  ponderous  reaper  with  one  hand,  while  with 
the  other  he  held  the  lines.  The  elevator  carried 
the  heads  of  wheat  into  a  large  wragon,  which  ran, 
barge-like,  beside  where  a  busy  loader  arranged 
the  load,  until,  towering  like  a  hay-stack,  the 
wagon  would  hold  no  more.  Then  it  was  driven 
away  to  the  rick-yard  by  the  careful  driver,  being 
succeeded  by  another  team  with  military  precision. 
The  flapping  of  the  canvas  elevator,  and  the  roll 
ing  waves  of  wheat,  rippled  and  tossed  by  the 
summer  breeze,  made  a  scene  that  recalled  a  sail  on 
the  sea;  all  of  which  wras  as  gratifying  to  Clifford's 


A    WESTERN   WHEAT-FIELD.  161 

sense  of  the  picturesque  as  the  prospect  for  gain 
was  encouraging. 

When  the  evening  came  twenty  acres  of  the 
heavy  grain  was  stacked  in  six  trim  ricks  at  the 
edge  of  the  field.  A  square  of  golden  straw  re 
mained  standing,  to  be  either  burned  at  the  end  of 
harvest,  or  turned  under  by  the  plows  to  further 
enrich  the  soil.  Ten  more  days  of  such  labor 
would  be  necessary,  however,  to  finish  the  Warlow 
harvest,  and  no  doubt  long  before  that  time  the 
picturesque  side  of  the  operation  will  be  appreciated 
best  by  those  who  view  it  at  a  safe  distance. 

In  the  cool  twilight  Clifford  and  Rob  were  riding 
homeward,  the  former  silent  and  abstracted,  while 
the  latter  was  calling  "Bob  White"  to  a  badly- 
deceived  quail,  that  answered  back  from  the  stub 
ble-field.  Finally,  becoming  tired  of  this,  Eob 
turned  a  shrewd  but  freckled  face  to  his  brother, 
and  said: — • 

"  What  was  the  matter  up  there  last  night,  Cliff? 
You  have  been  grim  as  an  old  mummy  all  day ! 
I  bet  my  boots  you  saw  something  too]  so  out 
with  it." 

"  Why  have  you  seen  anything  strange  up  there 
recently,  Rob  ?"  Clifford  replied,  evasively. 

"  Now,  do  n't  give  it  away,  Cliff,  for  the  folks 
would  raise  an  awful  racket  if  they  found  it  out ; 
but  last  week  I  saw  that  old  gray  demon — of  the 
camp-fire,  you  remember — by  the  corral.  I  was 
riding  Pomp  and  driving  the  cows  home  through 
the  dusk,  when,  as  I  came  along  by  the  old  stone 
wall  there,  out  popped  that  long-haired  spook,  and 


162 

glared  at  me  like  old  Nick.  Good  Lord,  Harry ! 
but  I  dug  out  of  that,  my  hair  bristling  up  mad- 
dog  style,  and  Pomp  wringing  his  tail  till  it 
cracked  like  a  whip-lash/'  he  concluded,  with  a 
scared  laugh. 

"  Well,  I  saw  him,  too,  at  the  same  place  last 
night/'  said  Clifford,  in  a  low  tone  as  several 
harvesters  came  up.  "  But  let 's  keep  the  matter 
secret,  Rob;  for  it  will  never  do  to  let  the  neigh 
bors  know  it,  and  be  ridiculed  for  our  superstition. 
Then  it  would  only  make  mother  and  Maud  un 
easy.  So  let 's  watch  and  say  nothing  until  we  have 
unraveled  the  mystery." 

In  the  evening  Clifford  was  starting  up  to  his 
dwelling,  on  the  plea  that  the  house  at  home  was 
crowded  with  the  workmen;  but  Rob  insisted  on 
going  along  and  sharing  the  watch,  which  on  this 
and  the  succeeding  evening  was  unsuccessful,  for 
no  trace  of  the  ghostly  visitant  was  found.  As 
Clifford  had  quite  enough  of  "  fortune  hunting " 
the  night  of  his  first  experience,  he  made  no  further 
investigations  for  the  recovery  of  the  treasure. 

The  following  Sabbath,  which  was  the  second 
after  the  Estill  visit,  the  younger  members  of  the 
Moreland  and  War  low  families  drove  down  to  the 
Estill  ranch.  As  they  dashed  up  to  the  great  pile 
of  creamy  stone  buildings,  smothered  in  elms  and 
sheltered  on  the  north  by  towering,  tree-clad  cliffs, 
our  young  friends  noticed  with  wonder  the  signs 
of  age  which  the  vine-mantled  and  time-stained 
building  presented. 

It    was   a    well-dressed,    animated    group    that 


163 

alighted  from  the  handsome  Warlow  carriage, — 
Maud  in  gray  silk  and  dotted  tulle ;  Grace  in  a 
"  Dolly  Yarden "  costume,  with  her  broad,  white 
hat  wreathed  by  daisies ;  Ralph  in  superfine  black, 
with  lawn  tie  and  white  vest,  his  handsome  face 
ruddy  with  health  and  happy  contentment;  Scott, 
quiet  and  thoughtful,  in  Puritan-gray ;  while  Rob 
gloried  in  the  splendor  of  spotless  white,  his  small, 
well-shaped  boots  glittering  like  jet.  He  had  given 
just  enough  cock  to  his  jaunty  straw  hat  to  cor 
respond  well  with  the  general  air  of  pertness  con 
veyed  by  a  slightly  freckled  nose,  dimpled  cheeks, 
dusky  with  tan,  and  a  pair  of  round,  hazel  eyes,  that 
always  danced  with  fun.  But  it  was  golden-haired, 
pansy-eyed  Clifford,  with  his  Grecian  face,  smooth, 
glossy  cheeks,  tinged  with  bronze,  but  fresh  and 
boyish  still,  who  would  rivet  the  gaze  longest ; 
for  there  was  a  look  of  pride  and  strength  about 
him  which  caused  one  to  forget  the  boutonniere 
of  fescue  and  lobelia,  blue  as  his  own  eyes,  and  the 
rich-textured  suit  of  seal-brown,  which  he  wore 
with  the  easy  grace  of  a  planter's  son. 

The  long  frontage  of  the  stately  mansion  was 
broken  by  gables,  balconies,  and  quaint  dormer  win 
dows,  and  on  the  broad  platform,  or  terrace,  in  front 
of  the  building  a  fountain  flashed  in  the  sunlight. 
The  terrace  was  walled  with  creamy  stone,  and 
railed  about  by  a  heavy  balustrade  of  white  mag- 
nesian  limestone.  In  the  angles  and  at  the  top  of 
the  steps  were  great  vases  of  the  same  alabaster- 
like  material,  down  the  sculptured  sides  of  which 


164  A  VISIT  TO  ESTILL'S  RANCH. 

trailed  tangled  masses  of  vines  with  their  blossoms, 
scarlet,  gold,  and  blue. 

As  our  friends  drove  up,  they  saw  Miss  Estill 
sitting  on  the  buffalo-grass  which  coated  the  lawn 
with  its  thick  carpet  of  pale  green.  She  appeared 
tp  be  twining  a  garland  of  flowers  about  the  neck 
of  a  pet  antelope,  as  it  stood  with  its  head  on  her 
shoulder  in  an  attitude  of  docile  affection. 

As  the  young  lady  arose  to  greet  the  guests,  the 
graceful  animal  bounded  away  to  the  shrubbery, 
where,  after  peeping  a  moment  with  shy  wonder  at 
the  new-comers,  it  skurried  off  to  the  top  of  the 
cliff  behind  the  dwelling,  snorting  and  stamping  its 
foot  angrily  at  the  intrusion. 

After  greeting  her  friends  cordially,  Miss  Estill 
led  the  way  through  a  tessellated  hall,  where  the 
walls  were  frescoed  and  hung  with  elegant  paint 
ings,  past  the  winding  stairs  of  dark,  rich  wood, 
and  to  a  cool,  long  room  to  the  east,  the  floor  of 
which  was  covered  with  India  matting,  swept  by 
the  lace  curtains  that  shaded  the  lofty  windows  from 
the  fierce  sunlight.  An  air  of  quiet  refinement  and 
simple  luxury  pervaded  this  apartment,  which  spoke 
volumes,  in  a  mute  way — all  very  favorable  to  the 
Estill  family. 

When  Mrs.  Estill  came  into  the  room,  Mora 
presented  her  new  friends,  who  were  charmed  by 
the  elder  lady's  welcome;  but  when  Clifford  was 
introduced  she  gave  him  a  swift,  searching  glance 
from  her  keen,  blue  eyes,  that  brought  a  flush  to 
his  face  at  her  look  of  scrutiny  and  valuation.  She 
must  have  read  him  aright,  however,  for  she  gave 


165 

her  hand  to  young  Warlow  in  a  very  friendly  way, 
and  he  thought  he  detected  a  sub  tone  of  gracious- 
ness  in  her  welcome  to  himself  a  shade  deeper  than 
when  she  had  addressed  the  others. 

Mrs.  Estill  was  a  fair,  dignified  matron,  whose 
flaxen  hair  was  now  slightly  tinged  with  gray ;  but 
as  Clifford  contrasted  the  Creole  daughter  with  her, 
he  failed  to  detect  any  resemblance  between  the  two. 

The  elder  lady  must  have  divined  his  thoughts, 
or  observed  his  look-  of  wonder  at  the  strange  dis 
similarity  existing  between  herself  and  her  only 
daughter,  for  she  appeared  to  be  embarrassed  and 
constrained  in  her  attempts  at  entertaining  the 
guests;  but  Mora  was  so  animated  and  vivacious 
that  her  mother's  disquiet  was  unnoticed  by  all  save 
Clifford,  who  vaguely  wondered  at  this  show  of 
uneasiness  over  such  a  trifle;  yet  he  had  occasion 
before  many  weeks  had  elapsed  to  recall  it  all  with 
a  strange  significance. 

When  Mr.  Estill  came  in,  and  Mora  had  pre 
sented  her  new  friends,  the  ruddy,  genial  old  ranch 
man  said  with  a  smile : — 

"  Now  this  is  something  like  civilized  life  once 
more!  Why,  it  does  my  very  soul  good  to  see 
young  company  about  the  old  ranch — a  sight  that  is 
as  rare  as  it  is  pleasant.  I  almost  fancy  myself  back 
in  the  old  home  again." 

The  visitors  were  soon  chatting  gaily  with  the 
courtly  and  entertaining  host,  who  proved  to  be  a 
typical  ranchman  of  the  plains, — shrewd  through 
long  dealings  with  a  business  class  noted  for  sagacity 
and  wealth;  urbane  and  refined  in  manner  by  hav- 


166        A   SKELETON   IN  THE   ESTILL   CLOSET. 

ing  been  thrown  among  bankers  and  the  leading 
men  of  the  city  for  many  years ;  and  lastly,  hospi 
table,  possibly  owing  to  the  fact  that  his  hospitality 
had  never  been  overtaxed  nor  abused  in  that  thinly 
settled  country. 

"  Where  could  this  Creole  daughter  have  sprung 
from?  She  looks  as  if  she  might  have  stepped  out  of 
the  Alhambra  into  this  family  of  blonde  Saxons,"  said 
Clifford  mentally,  again  contrasting  Mora  and  her 
parents ;  and  while  he  noted  the  auburn  hair,  just 
tinged  with  gray,  of  Mr.  Estill,  and  the  blue  eyes 
of  that  courtly  old  gentleman,  the  contrast  with  the 
Creole  daughter  became  so  apparent  that  Clifford 
must  have  betrayed  his  surprise,  for  he  was  soon 
aware  that  Mrs.  Estill  was  regarding  him  with  an 
uneasy  expression  which  only  served  to  increase  his 
perplexity.  "  There  is  a  skeleton  in  the  domestic 
closet  at  EstilPs  ranch,"  thought  our  young  friend ; 
"  but  what  can  the  mystery  be  ?" 

His  speculations  were  cut  short,  however,  by 
Mr.  Estill  saying  that  all  the  cow-boys  were  away 
with  Hugh,  shipping  a  "  bunch  of  steers," — omit 
ting  the  fact  that  the  modest  "  bunch  "  consisted  of 
two  long  train-loads  of  sleek,  fat  beeves,  and  that 
the  .duties  of  hostler  devolved  upon  himself  in  their 
absence. 

The  young  men  thereupon  arose  and  left  the 
room  with  their  host,  who,  after  the  manner  of 
Western  people,  believed  in  the  maxim,  "  Love  me, 
love  my  dog,"  which  finds  expression  in  the  care 
lavished  upon  the  horses  of  a  welcome  guest.  This 
spirit  often  leads  to  a  foundered  nag,  however;  but 


167 

it  would  be  a  very  ungrateful  man,  indeed,  who 
would  grumble  at  such  an  evidence  of  esteem. 

As  they  left  the  room  to  care  for  Clifford's  team, 
Mora  invited  Maud  and  Grace  up  to  her  boudoir, 
which,  she  said,  was  so  seldom  visited  that  the 
spiders  were  more  at  home  there  than  herself. 

"You  know  about  how  much  ' elegant  leisure'' 
falls  to  the  lot  of  farmers  and  ranch  people,"   she 
added. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Maud,  ruefully  ;  "  what 
with  baking,  scouring,  and  dairy-work,  we  have  not 
much  time  for  frivolous  dissipation." 

"  Oh,  what  a  lovely  room !"  screamed  Grace  in 
delight.  "  If  I  had  such  a  sweet  boudoir  I  M  steal 
an  hour  at  least  every  day  to  play  the  heroine,  even 
if  the  bread  burned  and  the  dishes  went  unwashed 
in  consequence,"  she  added,  rapturously. 

"  When  up  here  I  often  dream  that  I  am  a  grand 
lady,"  said  Mora,  gaily ;  "  but  when  I  catch  a  glimpse 
in  the  mirror  of  a  frumpy,  frouzy  creature  with  a 
towel  over  her  head,  then  I  awake  to  the  sad  reality 
that  I  am  only  the  slave  of.  circumstances." 

Grace  would  have  been  perfectly  justified,  how 
ever,  in  indulging  in  day-dreams  in  such  a  place ; 
for  a  more  elegant  apartment,  or  one  where  greater 
taste  was  evinced  in  every  detail  of  adornment,  was 
rarely  to  be  seen  in  the  West. 

It  was  situated  at  the  south  end  of  the  upper 
hall,  and  opened  out  upon  the  balcony  by  a  door  of 
plate  glass,  thick  and  beveled,  through  which  could 
be  seen  the  flashing  fountain  on  the  terrace  below 
and  a  landscape  of  surpassing  beauty.  The  wooded 


168 

stream  wound  away  down  the  prairie  valley,  which 
was  dotted  with  innumerable  ricks  of  wild-hay ;  the 
white  stone  walls  which  fenced  the  ranch  ran  far 
out  onto  the  highlands,  dimly  defining  the  bound 
aries  of  the  great  estate. 

The  walls  of  the  elegant  apartment  were  draped 
with  and  paneled  by  carmine  and  cream  colored 
silk,  relieved  by  lines  of  white.  A  carpet  of  creamy 
velvet  was  strewn  with  moss-roses  of  the  same  shade 
of  carmine,  with  all  the  furniture  upholstered  to 
correspond.  The  walls  were  graced — not  crowded — 
by  a  tall  beveled  mirror  of  French  plate  and  some 
delicious  paintings,  framed  in  gilt.  The  low  mantel 
was  of  Italian  marble,  white,  dappled  and  veined  with 
red  shading  to  faintest  rose.  Vases  of  Sevres  china, 
statuettes  of  bronze,  and  elegantly  bound  volumes 
were  seen  on  every  hand.  There  was  a  table  of 
mosaic,  on  which  was  a  basket  of  fancy-work,  that, 
Miss  Estill  said,  was  destined  never  to  be  finished. 
Through  the  draped  door-way,  on  the  east,  could 
be  seen  the  snowy,  lace-canopied  bed  of  the  mistress 
of  all  this  splendor.  The  sunlight,  sifting  through 
the  tops  of  the  elms  which  grew  below  the  terrace, 
shone  in  fitful  bars  of  amber  on  a  picture  which 
was  riveting  the  attention  of  Maud,  who  sprang  up 
from  her  velvet  chair  and  cried  with  enthusiasm : — 

"  Oh  Grace  !  it  is  '  Sunset  on  the  Smoky  Hill/ 
do  n't  you  see  the  Iron  Mound  looming  up  with 
vague  mystery?  The  serpentine  river,  fringed  by 
trees,  is  the  Saline ;  and  there,  winding  down  from 
the  north,  is  the  stately  Solomon ;  while  here  at 
our  feet  flows  the  Smoky  Hill  betweenit  s  timbered 


MORA  ESTILL'S  PAINTING.  169 

banks.  See  that  white  blot,  far  out  to  the  east,  ris 
ing  in  the  evening  mirage, — it  must  be  Fort  Riley  ! 
There  is  Abilene ;  and  all  along  the  wide  prairie 
valley,  flanked  by  bold  grassy  headlands,  are  white 
villages  and  golden  fields  of  wheat.  Here,  nestling 
down  in  the  broad  valley  among  the  groves  at  the 
base  of  the  Iron  Mound,  is  Salina — which  reminds 
me  of  Damascus,  with  its  rivers  of  Abana  and 
Pharpar.  Out  to  the  south-west  see  that  long  line 
of  purple,  jagged  buttes,  over  which  eternally  hovers 
a  smoky  haze, — those  are  the  Smoky  Hills !  Look 
at  the  twilight  stealing  down  through  their  gorges. 
Oh,  it  is  like  a  glimpse  of  heaven !  Mora — Mora  ! 
who  could  have  painted  this  ?"  she  said,  with  tears 
of  genuine  emotion.  Then  seeing  Miss  Estill  blush 
ing  hotly,  she  and  Grace  impulsively  kissed  the 
young  artist — Maud  saying  with  a  little  quaver 
of  emotion :  — 

"  Mora  Estill,  you  dear,  gifted  creature — do  you 
know  that  you  are  a  genius?'7 

"I  am  not  so  certain  of  that,  for  I  am  often 
led  to  believe  in  Hugh's  criticisms.  He  says  that 
my  best  pictures  are  very  similar  in  appearance  to 
a  newly  flayed  beefs-hide."  Then,  as  the  others 
gave  vent  to  shrieks  of  feminine  amazement,  Miss 
Estill  continued  merrily :  "  I  had  a  letter  from 
him  yesterday.  He  is  at  Kansas  City,  you  know. 
Would  you  believe  it  ? — he  sent  an  order  for  me  to 
paint  the  sign  for  a  butcher's  shop.  The  aggravat 
ing  fellow  charged  me,  carefully,  to  put  a  sufficient 
number  of  limbs  on  the  figure  of  a  cow  that  was  to 
adorn  the  sign.  Then  he  proceeded  with  a  whole 

15 


170       AN  ART  CRITIC  "  BEEF  TO  THE  HEEL." 

page  of  caution,  in  which  he  charged  me  to  avoid 
the  fatal  error  of  painting  claws  upon  the  animal's 
hoofs.  There  followed  a  long  homily,  showing  the 
dire  results  of  such  a  slight  mistake — the  innuendo 
and  sarcasm,  the  cold  suspicion  and  cruel  neglect, 
that  would  alight  upon  the  head  of  a  butcher  who 
was  suspected  of  making  beef  of  an  animal  that 
wore  claws. 

"  This  picture  of  Lake  Inman,"  said  Miss  Estill, 
as  the  laughing  group  moved  forward  to  where  a 
beautiful  painting  hung,  "  Hugh  persists  in  calling 
'  The  Knot  Hole ;'  and  in  his  letter  he  said  that  as 
to  the  horns  of  the  animal  which  was  to  adorn  the 
sign,  they  were  a  matter  of  indifference  to  the 
public,  and  I  could  keep  them  for  the  trunks  of  the 
'  stately  elms '  in  my  next  landscape,  and  I  might 
transplant  them  with  great  success  to  the  shores 
of  Lake  Inman,  which  you  see  is  badly  in  need 
of  shade." 

"  I  ?d  just  like  to  teach  him,"  said  Grace,  inad 
vertently  ;  but  seeing  the  amused  look  which  Maud 
shot  at  Miss  Estill  she  hesitated  with  a  blush,  while 
Mora  quickly  exclaimed  :  — 

"  Oh,  I  believe  he  is  beginning  to  learn  of  late; 
but  I  hope  you  will  give  him  a  lesson  in  poetry, 
for  I  found  an  effusion  among  his  papers,  where  he 
had  evidently  forgotten  it,  that  will  bear  a  great 
deal  of  revision;"  and  she  took  from  a  bronze  cabi 
net  a  paper  whereon  was  written,  in  lame  and 
halting  couplets,  an  apostrophe  "  To  My  Love." 

But  the  author  had  failed  so  signally  to  secure 
either  rhyme  or  measure,  that  the  girls  shrieked 


TENDER   SENTIMENTS.  171 

aloud  as  Mora  read  long  verses  of  the  most  trivial 
nonsense  and  doggerel,  where  "  golden  tresses/7 
"  had  went/7  and  "  blue  eyes  "  were  mingled  with 
loving  ardor,  but  very  bad  grammar. 

As  the  verses  progressed,  the  sentiment  became 
more  tender,  but  the  diction  and  measure  were  per 
fectly  appalling  in  their  untutored  originality.  At 
each  new  limp  or  poetical  hobble,  the  girls  would 
laugh  gaily ;  but  when  Mora  looked  at  Grace  with 
a  significant  smile,  the  application  of  the  following 
lines  was  readily  seen  :  — 

"  My  love  she's  golden  hair  and  eyes 

Of  deepest,  finest  blue. 
1  love  her  better  than  ['  Gooseberry  pies!'  cried 

Maud]  any  thing, 
My  heart  will  always  be  true  to  you." 

Although  the  author  had  promoted  his  lady  love 
from  the  obscure  position  of  third  person  to  the 
station  of  second  person  in  the  space  of  a  second, 
yet  even  this  was  not  enough  to  induce  Grace  to 
remain  longer;  for  she  fled  away  with  burning 
blushes,  while  Mora  still  continued  to  read  lines, 
the  syntax  of  which  disclosed  the  revolting  fact  that 
their  author  had  throttled  his  own  mother  tongue, 
had  slain  persons  without  regard  to  sex  or  condition, 
and,  like  a  vandal,  had  cut  off  the  feet  of  his  best 
subject  at  some  critical  moment. 

At  the  close  Miss  Estill  folded  the  paper,  and 
as  she  placed  it  in  a  cabinet  she  said,  it  would  yet 
serve  to  pay  off  some  old  scores  with  Hugh.  She 
must  have  kept  her  word,  for  on  his  return  he  was 
immeasurably  shocked  on  opening  his  county  paper 


172  MIL.KING-TIME. 

to  see,  staring  at  him  from  the  first  page :  "A  Poem 
To  My  Love.     By  H.  E." 

After  Mr.  Estill  had  praised  the  dappled  Nor 
mans  and  cared  for  them  in  a  very  hospitable  manner, 
he  led  the  young  men  out  to  a  near-by  pasture  to 
show  them  his  Jersey  cows.  While  they  were  ad 
miring  the  graceful  animals,  their  host  said:  — 

"  For  twenty-five  years  we  had  either  depended 
on  Texan  cows  for  milk,  or  had  used  the  concen 
trated  article  without  even  once  thinking  .of  the 
folly  of  such  a  course.  We  had  so  long  been  ac 
customed  to  seeing  the  herders  lasso  the  wild,  infu 
riated  creatures  before  milking  them,  that  we  had 
actually  forgotten  there  was  any  other  way.  It  may 
have  been  owing  to  our  trusting  the  operation 
wholly  to  the  cow-boys  that  no  progress  was  made 
in  subduing  the  animals  or  reducing  them  to  a 
domestic  state ;  but  we  never  had  thought  it  safe 
to  allow  a  woman  inside  of  the  corral  since  that 
morning,  a  score  of  years  ago,  when  my  wife  had 
been  kicked  insensible  by  a  beast  that  she  had 
attempted  to  milk.  One  evening,  after  Mora  had 
returned  from  Cincinnati,  she  witnessed  the  usual 
proceedings  in  the  milk-yard, — two  broad-hatted  and 
bespurred  herders  lassoing  a  cow.  Then,  after  tying 
her  head  to  one  post  and  hind-foot  to  another,  one 
of  the  valiant  milk-men  stripped  a  few  streams  of 
the  precious  fluid  into  a  cup,  while  his  partner  stood 
by,  whip  in  hand,  ready  to  punish  any  movement 
on  the  part  of  the  bellowing  brute.  Only  then  did 
she  realize  how  infamously  undairy-like  the  affair 


A   CAPACIOUS   RANCH.  173 

really  was.     When  I  met  her  a  few  moments  later, 
she  said  with  a  shade  of  contempt  in  her  tone : — 

" '  Oh,  why  do  you  allow  such  barbarous  work 
on  the  ranch?' 

" ( But,  my  dear,'  I  replied,  '  there  is  no  other 
way.  Why,  I  would  rather  tackle  a  mountain  lion 
than  one  of  those  fiery  creatures  while  she  is  loose.' 

"  '  Then,  why  not  buy  some  Jerseys  ?'  Mora  said. 

"Yes,  indeed,  why  not?  I  thought,  and  so  I 
lost  no  time  over  deliberations,  but  wrote  at  once 
to  Major  Kingsbury,  who  sent  me  these  gentle 
creatures,  which  now  we  value  above  anything  else 
on  the  ranch." 

Nothing  was  said  about  the  vast  herds,  the 
thousands  of  fat  cattle  grazing  out  over  the  great 
pastures  around ;  but  the  visitors  were  impressed 
with  the  evidence  of  great  wealth  visible  on  every 
hand.  The  capacious  corral  and  innumerable  ricks 
of  prairie-hay  bore  mute  testimony  to  the  thrift  and 
opulence  which  reigned  at  the  Estill  ranch. 

As  Mr.  Estill  led  the  way  back  to  the  dwelling 
he  said : — 

"  Hugh  will  be  greatly  disappointed  when  he 
learns  that  he  has  missed  your  visit.  I  have  been 
away  with  him  for  the  last  fortnight,  and  only 
returned  last  evening,  when  I  learned  from  my 
wife  that — that — my  children  had  a  very  pleasant 
day  up  at  your  place."  Then  in  a  constrained  voice 
he  added :  "  I  would  like  to  meet  your  father,  Mr. 
Warlow ;  for  there  is  a  subject  which  I  would  like 
very  much  to  discuss  with  him." 

"My  father  expressed   a  wish   to    make   your 


174  A    PICTURED   LANDSCAPE. 

acquaintance  also ;  for  it  appears  that  he  is  anxious 
to  discuss  the  early  history  of  this  country  with 
you/'  Clifford  replied. 

Mr.  Estill  seemed  greatly  agitated  on  hearing 
this ;  but  when  about  to  reply,  dinner  was  announced, 
and  he  arose  and  led  the  way  into  the  long,  walnut- 
paneled  dining-room.  All  this  time  Clifford  was 
mutely  wondering  why  the  wealthy  old  ranchman 
should  be  so  anxious  to  meet  his  father. 

"Can  it  be  that  the  cattle-king  is  opposed  to 
the  intimacy  growing  up  between  myself  and  his 
daughter?"  young  Warlow  asked  himself.  Then 
he  thought  of  the  friendly  manner  of  his  host,  and 
rejected  the  idea  at  once. 

They  were  soon  gaily  chatting  over  the  soup; 
but  as  Clifford's  eye  glanced  along  the  wall  his 
attention  was  attracted  by  a  painting,  which  hung 
where  the  light  fell  upon  it  in  such  a  way  as  to 
bring  out  every  detail  with  perfect  clearness.  In 
its  foreground  was  a  mammoth  tree,  shading  the 
gables  of  a  stone  cottage ;  a  ruined  wall,  half  smoth 
ered  by  vines.  Across  the  stream,  which  had  half 
encircled  the  knoll  where  the  building  stood,  were 
fields  of  ripening  grain,  that  rippled  in  the  billowy 
waves,  stirred  and  tossed  by  the  summer  breeze, 
wheat  of  coppery  red  or  palest  gold,  the  silvery 
sheen  of  rye  and  oats  contrasting  with  the  tawny 
prairie  and  dark,  green  groves,  through  which 
shimmered  the  brook  and  pools  that  he  recognized 
as  old  friends. 

As  his  eye  sought  the  author  of  this  delicate 
compliment,  which  was  a  truthful  picture  of  his 


RANCH    FARE.  175 

place — the  Old  Corral — he  caught  Miss  EstilPs 
amused  look  ;  for  she  had  been  watching  the  pleased 
surprise  which  had  grown  upon  his  face  as  he 
realized  what  the  picture  really  was.  His  glance 
must  have  been  very  expressive  in  reply ;  for  a 
blush  swept  over  her  face,  usually  serene  in  its 
quiet  dignity,  or  vicacious  with  blithesome  wit,  and 
her  blue  eyes  retreated  behind  their  long  lashes — a 
guilty  admission  that  she  was  the  artist  who  had 
painted  the  scene. 

This  silent  by-play  was  not  unnoticed,  quiet  as 
it  all  seemed ;  for  as  Clifford  turned  to  take  the  plate 
of  rare  good  things  which  the  host  passed  to  him, 
he  encountered  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Estill  fixed  upon 
him;  but  the  lady  smiled  with  a  look  of  such 
evident  enjoyment  of  the  situation  that  he  half 
forgot  that  Mr.  Estill  still  held  the  plate,  which 
young  Warlow  seized  with  an  air  which  was  neither 
as  graceful  nor  self-possessed  as  a  hero  should 
have  worn. 

With  ready  tact  Mrs.  Estill  came  to  the  rescue 
by  saying:— 

"  It  all  looks  strange,  no  doubt,  that  I  treat  you 
to  a  ranch  fare  of  canned  beef  from  St.  Louis,  and 
vegetables  from  Baltimore  and  Rochester,  but  if  it 
were  not  for  our  Jerseys  we  should  have  been  com 
pelled  to  call  on  Chicago  for  condensed  milk  also. 
I  never  realized  the  absurdity  of  this  course  until 
Mora  told  me  of  the  luxuriant  gardens  and  fields 
of  grain  which  you  are  raising  in  the  upper  valley. 
Why,  Hugh  says  it  is  a  marvel  how  prosperous 
everything  appears  up  there." 


176  A    FORBIDDEN   SUBJECT. 

"  We  never  before  have  regarded  this  as  a  farm 
ing  country;  it  has  remained  for  your  brave  colony 
to  explode  that  fallacy ;  and  I  hope  your  prosperity 
may  be  as  lasting  as  it  is  merited,"  said  Mr.  Estill. 

An  hour  was  spent  in  the  parlor  after  dinner ; 
then  a  long  stroll  followed  out  among  the  cedars  to 
the  north  of  the  dwelling.  Here  Mora  and  Clifford 
soon  found  themselves  deserted  by  their  companions, 
and  were  left  to  their  own*  resources  for  entertain 
ment. 

They  had  been  longing,  no  doubt,  for  this  mo 
ment  to  arrive;  so  we  will  not  intrude — a  proceed 
ing  that  would  be  alike  odious  to  the  couple  and 
cruel  to  the  reader ;  but  when  they  emerged  an 
hour  later  from  the  jungle  of  evergreens,  Mora  was 
heard  to  say  : — 

"  I  can  not  imagine  why  mamma  was  so  agitated 
when  I  told  her.  She  never  was  affected  by  any 
thing  before.  But  she  positively  forbade  my  men 
tioning  the  subject  again  in  her  presence.  When  I 
begged  her  to  tell  why  she  talked  so  strangely,  she 
replied  that  the  story  of  the  old  tragedy  had  com 
pletely  unnerved  her;  and  then  she  again  questioned 
me  as  to  every  detail  of  that  terrible  affair." 

"  No  doubt  the  remembrance  of  those  early  days, 
their  danger  and  trials,  all  recurred  with  painful 
minuteness  as  you  related  the  story,  Miss  Estill,  for 
your  parents  were  residing  here  at  the  time  of  that 
sorrowful  event/7  Clifford  replied. 

"  No ;  I  fear  that  there  is  some  deeper  reason  yet ; 
for  when  papa  returned  from  Abilene — whither  he 
had  been  with  Hugh  shipping  cattle — mother  sought 


A   FORBIDDEN   SUBJECT.  177 

an  interview  alone  with  him,  and  when  I  came  into 
the  room  he  said  that  I  must  be  very  careful  to 
avoid  the  subject  in  the  future.  My  parents  never 
could  be  taxed  with  being  sentimental — of  that  I 
am  certain.  But  what  the  mystery  can  be — for  a 
mystery  it  certainly  is — I  am  at  a  loss  to  conjec 
ture." 

"  The  air  seems  full  of  mystery  since  you  and 
my  father  met,"  replied  Clifford;  "but  I  hope  it  will 
soon  be  all  explained,  Miss  Estill." 

"  I  was  very  glad  to  see  you  come  to-day ;  for 
although  papa  only  arrived  last  night,  he  had  con 
cluded  to  go  up  to  see  Colonel  Warlow  at  once. 

"  I  can't  guess  why  he  seems  so  anxious  about 
meeting  him.  I  tried  bribery  with  a  kiss;  but  he 
would  not  tell  me  why  he  was  going — would  always 
evade  my  question  by  replying  that  it  was  business, 
only,  that  prompted  the  visit." 

"  He  must  be  very  obdurate,  indeed,  not  to  yield 
on  such  terms,"  Clifford  replied,  with  a  look  which 
betrayed  how  willingly  he  would  surrender  at  such 
a  proposition. 

You  have  discovered,  no  doubt,  that  although 
our  friend  Warlow  often  spoke  with  his  eyes,  yet  he 
allowed  the  lady  to  do  three-fourths  of  the  talking. 
This  is  a  very  dangerous  experiment  for  an  un 
fettered  youth  to  indulge  in;  for  I  have  always  ob 
served  that  when  a  fluent,  silvery-tongued  woman 
finds  a  ready  listener,  provided  the  victim  be  young, 
handsome,  and  manly,  she  first  becomes  more  fluent, 
then,  when  answered  in  monosyllables,  she  shows 
her  admiration  of  his  "great  conversational  powers," 

16 


178  A   FOEBIDDEN   SUBJECT. 

and  proceeds  to  make  herself  irresistible  and  capti 
vating  at  once — all  of  which  ends  in  chains  and 
slavery  for  the  brilliant  listener. 

After  a  moment's  silence,  Miss  Estill  said : — 

"  I  notice  a  strange  change  has  come  over  you 
since  we  last  met,  Mr.  Warlow.  Is  it  possible  that 
you,  also,  have  been  seized  by  that  strange  infection 
of  mystery  which  seems  to  possess  all  my  friends  in 
the  last  few  weeks?" 

"  Why,  Miss  Estill,  do  you  really  think  me 
changed?"  Clifford  replied,  with  due  regard  to  the 
three-fourths  rule. 

At  that  moment  the  other  members  of  the  party 
came  up  and  proposed  returning,  thus  precluding 
Miss  Estill's  answer. 

As  the  guests  were  taking  their  leave,  Mr.  Estill 
said,  in  reply  to  their  cordial  invitations  to  visit 
them,  that  he  would  drive  up  the  next  day  in  company 
with  his  wife,  that  he  had  business  with  Colonel 
Warlow,  and  that  himself  and  wife  would  call  upon 
the  Moreland  family,  if  it  would  be  agreeable  to 
that  family  to  receive  them. 

On  hearing  nothing  but  great  pleasure  expressed 
at  this  announcement,  the  matter  was  settled  defi 
nitely  in  that  way ;  then  the  guests  took  their  leave, 
and  drove  home  through  the  cool  twilight,  vaguely 
wondering  what  business  Mr.  Estill  could  have  to 
transact  with  Colonel  Warlow. 


PHANTOMS   OF  THE   PAST.  179 


Chapter  XIV. 

EARLY  next  morning  Clifford  rode  away,  on 
the  pretext  that  he  was  going  to  buy  cattle  of 
a  ranchman  in  the  next  county;  but  his  absence 
was  mainly  owing  to  the  fact  that  he  suspected  the 
Estill  visit  was  in  some  way  connected  with  his 
intimacy  with  Mora ;  so  he  had  decided  that  he 
would  take  himself  off,  and  thereby  avoid  a  dis 
agreeable  scene. 

The  cattle-king  and  his  wife  arrived  at  an  early 
hour,  although  they  had  called  a  moment  at  the 
Moreland  homestead  and  given  a  promise  that  they 
would  stop  for  an  early  tea  on  their  return  home 
ward  from  the  Warlows.  When  they  had  been  in 
troduced  by  Maud,  the  colonel  and  Mr.  Estill  went 
to  the  stable  to  care  for  the  team,  and  when  that 
important  rite  of  hospitality  had  been  duly  observed 
the  gentlemen  rejoined  their  wives  in  the  Warlow 
parlor. 

Robbie  was  away  in  the  fields  with  the  farm 
men;  Maud  was  busy  with  household  cares,  on 
the  plea  of  which  she  had  absented  herself  from 
the  parlor.  The  kitchen,  which  was  the  scene  of 
her  culinary  operations,  was  situated  in  an  ell  of 
the  building,  and  as  she  stood  by  a  window  that 
looked  directly  through  into  one  in  the  parlor,  she 
could  see  and  hear  a  great  deal  that  was  transpiring 
therein. 


180  PHANTOMS   OF   THE   PAST. 

An  hour  after  the  arrival  of  the  guests  she  was 
standing  by  this  open  window,  putting  the  last 
touches  of  frosting  on  a  cooca-nut  cake,  and  so 
deeply,  indeed,  was  she  engrossed  with  her  labors 
that  she  had  failed  to  observe  what  the  situation 
really  was  in  the  parlor,  until  she  heard  a  hoarse 
cry : — 

"  Oh  God !  it  is  Bruce  and  Ivarene !"  and  as 
she  glanced  hastily  into  the  room  she  beheld  a 
sight  that  perplexed  and  mystified  her  for  long 
days  thereafter.  Her  father  stood  by  the  window 
holding  a  jeweled  locket  in  his  hand ;  but  at  that 
moment  he  lowered  the  window-curtain,  thus  shut 
ting  off  all  view  of  the  parlor. 

When,  an  hour  later,  Mrs.  Warlow  came  into 
the  kitchen,  traces  of  tears  were  visible  on  her 
usually  placid  face;  and  when  Maud,  unable  any 
longer  to  restrain  her  curiosity,  eagerly  asked  the 
meaning  of  the  mysterious  conclave  in  the  parlor, 
her  mother  evaded  answering;  so  Maud  wisely 
concluded  to  await  her  parents'  confidence,  which 
she  felt  certain  of  sharing  at  the  proper  time. 

At  dinner  Colonel  Warlow  ate  but  little  of  the 
tempting  food ;  and  the  guests,  although  they 
praised  the  roast-chicken  with  its  savory  dressing, 
the  delicate  float  and  frosted  cake,  left  their  plates 
almost  untouched. 

When  the  constrained  and  quiet  meal  was 
finished,  and  all  had  returned  to  the  parlor  but 
Maud,  Rob  came  back  again  to  the  table,  and  as 
that  youth,  with  an  unappeasable  appetite,  helped 


PHANTOMS   OF   THE   PAST.  181 

himself  to  a  plateful  of  "stuffing"  and  gravy,  he 
turned  to  his  sister  and  said : — 

"  What 's  the  matter  now,  Maud  ?  The  colonel 
seems  to  be  all  broke  up ;  and  that  old  Lady  Estill — 
by  grab! — she  looked  like  death  on  a — a — white 
pony !  Mother,  too,  appeared  as  if  she  might  have 
been  sniffling;  but  that's  nothing  but  a  common 
pastime  with  her.  You  know  that  all  women, 
more  or  less — yourself  included,  madam — are  very 
much  given  to  the  chicken-hearted  habit  of  dribbling 
at  the  nose." 

"  Chicken-hearted,  indeed  !  It  is  a  great  won 
der,  then,  that  you  did  not  devour  us  long  ago,  sir !" 
said  Maud,  with  a  great  show  of  asperity,  but  very 
glad  to  lead  the  subject  into  other  channels  and 
elude  further  questioning ;  for  she  saw  by  her 
mother's  manner  that  there  was  something  about 
the  Estill  visit  which  they  wished,  for  unknown 
reasons,  to  keep  secret,  and  it  was  a  matter  of 
honor  with  the  noble-hearted  girl  to  help  them 
conceal  what  she  herself  was  longing  to  know. 

"  Well,  big  guns  of  the  Estill  calibre  don't  go 
off  on  slight  occasions,"  persisted  Rob,  with  his 
mouth  half-full  of  the  adored  "  stuffing,"  and  as 
he  reached  for  a  tall  glass  of  ruby-colored  plum- 
jelly,  Maud  quickly  said  : — 

"  Won't  you  have  a  bit  of  the  cake,  Rob  ?" 

"Thanks — yes,"  said  he,  as  he  helped  himself 
to  the  last  solitary  quarter  of  that  frosted  dainty ; 
"  and  I  would  be  pleased  to  taste  a  morsel  of  that 
chicken  also,"  he  mumbled. 

"  What  choice,  sir  ?"   she  asked  sarcastically. 


182  ROB   AT   DINNER. 

"  The  running-gears,  if  you  please,"  he  replied 
with  polite  gravity. 

With  a  gesture  of  scorn  and  disgust,  Maud 
passed  him  the  carcass  of  the  fowl;  then,  after 
filling  a  large  platter  with  crusts,  bones,  and  egg 
shells,  she  placed  them  before  him  with  the  injunc 
tion  to  help  himself.  Retiring  to  the  window,  she 
watched  him  devour  cake,  chicken,  jam,  and  potatoes 
with  an  appetite  that  knew  no  discrimination. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  have  not  done  justice  to  my 
dishes,"  she  said,  as  Rob  at  length  arose  from  the 
table. 

"  Oh,  now  don  't  give  us  any  more  sarcasm,"  said 
he,  while  picking  his  teeth  with  a  broom-split.  "  It 
is  so  long  from  breakfast  to  noon,  Maud,  that  I  just 
get  faint  waiting  on  that  slow  old  dinner-bell." 

"  No  doubt ;  but  you  remember  how  ravenously 
hungry  you  were  last  week,  when  the  pup  got  the 
bell-rope  in  his  mouth  and  summoned  you  in  form 
the  field  at  nine  in  the  morning,"  she  retorted, 
laughingly. 

"  Well,  that  was  a  cloudy  day,"  he  said,  good- 
naturedly  ;  then,  taking  his  straw  hat  from  its  hook 
on  the  porch,  he  hurried  away  to  the  field. 

After  finishing  her  domestic  duties,  Maud  joined 
the  guests  in  the  parlor,  with  a  faint  hope  of  learning 
something  further  of  the  mystery  which  seemed  to 
enshroud  their  visit,  of  which  she  had  got  such  a 
tantalizing  glimpse  an  hour  before ;  but  her  expecta 
tions  were,  however,  sadly  doomed  to  disappoint 
ment,  for  nothing  was  said  that  would  throw  any 
light  on  the  subject ;  and,  after  spending  a  while  at 


A   HOME-LIKE   SCENE.  183 

the  piano,  she  invited  the  guests  out  to  look  at  her 
flowers. 

The  party  thereupon  adjourned  to  the  garden ; 
and  when  they  had  admired  the  flowers  and  shrubs, 
they  sauntered  on  to  the  barn-yard,  to  look  at  the 
peacocks  and  other  fowls,  of  which  Mrs.  Warlow 
was  justly  proud. 

"  I  should  like  to  take  a  nearer  view  of  your 
crops,  Colonel.  It  has  been  so  long  since  I  saw  a 
well-conducted  farm,  that  it  appears  quite  a  novelty 
to  me/'  said  Mr.  Estill,  with  evident  interest. 

In  a  few  moments  they  all  embarked  in  the  boat, 
and  were  rowed  up  to  Clifford's  dwelling;  for  if 
there  was  one  thing  of  which  the  colonel  was  vain 
it  was  his  son's  farming. 

As  they  stood  in  the  level  valley  south  of  the 
river,  a  scene  of  perfect  rural  beauty  was  visible. 
On  the  north  was  Clifford's  gothic  cottage,  half 
hidden  by  the  drooping  elm ;  to  the  east,  the  chim 
neys  and  gables  of  the  Warlow  homestead  peeped 
above  the  trees ;  while  out  to  the  south,  on  a  green 
knoll,  stood  the  stone  school-house,  with  its  tower 
and  rose-window. 

The  yellow  wheat-stubble  shone  like  gold  beside 
the  silvery  oats,  fast  ripening  for  the  harvest;  the 
rank  corn  stood  in  clean,  dark  rows — great  squares 
of  waving  green;  scores  of  rieks  were  standing 
along  the  valley ;  while  the  clank  of  the  header  and 
shouts  of  the  workmen  were  borne  on  the  breeze 
from  the  neighboring  field. 

"Ah !  this  is  a  very  home-like  scene,  indeed — 
a  great  contrast  to  the  one  presented  here  just  two 


184  PAST   AND    PRESENT. 

years  ago  when  last  I  visited  this  spot/'  said  Mr. 
Estill.  "  My  ranch,  ten  miles  below  here,  was  then 
the  last  settlement  on  the  frontier.  There  was  not 
a  human  habitation  in  sight — only  antelope  and 
buffalo  to  vary  the  monotony  of  perfect  solitude. 
In  fact,  there  had  never  been  an  owner  for  the  land 
nor  a  furrow  turned  here  since  the  dawn  of  creation. 
Marvelous  change !"  he  added. 

After  crossing  the  stream  on  a  foot-log,  which 
here  formed  a  rustic  bridge,  they  all  walked  up  to 
Clifford's  dwelling,  and  while  standing  by  the  vine- 
mantled  wall  of  the  Old  Corral,  the  colonel  said 
in  a  musing  tone  : — 

"  If  this  inanimate  ruin  could  but  speak,  we 
might  learn  the  sequel  to  that  tragedy  which  has 
risen  again,  as  it  were,  from  the  grave  of  the  past. 
The  robbers  were  led  by  white  men,  who  no  doubt 
divided  the  treasure  amo'ng  themselves  while  the 
savages  were  stupefied  with  liquor." 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  cry  of  wonder  from 
Maud,  who  could  not  repress  her  astonishment  at 
his  assertion  that  white  men  had  led  the  Indians — 
a  fact  which  Hugh  Estill  seemed  to  have  been  aware 
of  also,  and  which,  taken  in  connection  with  the 
incident  of  the  miniature,  led  her  to  believe  that 
the  Estills  were  in  some  way  connected  with  the 
massacre. 

"  Maud,  dear,  will  you  go  and  see  how  Clifford's 
young  catal pa-trees,  down  the  drive,  are  growing? 
and  if  they  need  cultivating  again,  we  will  send  one 
of  the  boys  over  with  a  plow  soon,"  said  Mrs.  War- 
low,  with  a  warning  glance ;  and  Miss  Maud  moved 


CURIOSITY.  185 

quickly  away,  somewhat  chagrined  at  her  summary 
dismissal. 

As  she  passed  along,  she  was  pondering  over 
the  strange  fact  that  her  father  had  at  last  obtained 
a  clue  to  the  perpetrators  of  the  outrage  at  the 
corral ;  and  she  became  so  deeply  engrossed  with 
the  thought  that  she  was  quite  unmindful  which 
way  her  steps  led,  until  her  eye  was  attracted  to 
a  place  where  the  earth  appeared  to  have  been  re 
cently  disturbed,  and  she  paused  a  moment,  vaguely 
wondering  what  could  have  been  buried  there. 

The  tall  blue  stem-grass  was  tangled  ar.d  dead, 
while  the  square  outlines  of  a  cavity  showed  through 
the  mass  of  dead  vines  and  leaves,  which  had  been 
suspiciously  strewn  over  the  place,  with  a  view,  it 
seemed,  of  concealing  all  trace  of  the  disturbance. 
She  became  also  aware  of  a  most  disgusting  odor 
near  the  old  cotton  wood-tree ;  but,  unmindful  of 
this,  she  raked  away  the  grass  and  litter  to  examine 
more  closely  the  cavity  in  which  the  soil  had  been 
firmly  trampled,  but  her  curiosity  was  in  no  wise 
abated  when  she  discovered  that  it  was  Clifford's 
boot-tracks  that  were  visible  in  the  soft,  yielding 
earth. 

"What  has  he  buried  here,  that  he  seems  so 
anxious  to  conceal?"  she  was  asking  herself,  when 
a  puff  of  wind  brought  the  odor  with  such  added 
strength  that  she  nearly  fainted,  and  was  hastily  re 
treating  from  the  proximity  of  that  mysterious 
place,  where  she  feared  some  strange,  dead  thing 
was  buried,  when  she  saw  the  bloated  and  mottled 
form  of  that  hideous  reptile  which  the  reader  may 


186  A    HUMAN   TOOTH. 

remember  as  having  greeted  a  "  Young  Fortune 
Hunter "  one  weird  and  murky  night  the  week 
before. 

With  a  stifled  shriek,  Maud  fled  by  the  vile- 
smelling  and  repulsive  object,  which  she  saw  at  a 
glance  was  mangled  and  dead ;  then,  as  she  slowly 
returned  and  walked  south  of  the  reptile,  she  sur 
veyed  it  carefully,  and  saw,  with  a  shudder,  that  it 
was  a  hideous  rattlesnake,  with  its  head  severed 
from  the  body.  Appalled  at  the  thought  that  it 
was  her  brother  who  had  slain  this  formidable 
monster,  the  bite  of  which,  while  living,  she  knew 
meant  certain  death,  she  was  retreating  again  from 
the  place,  pale  and  trembling,  but  paused  at  the  ex 
cavation,  to  wonder,  even  then,  what  it  meant,  when 
her  eye,  which  was  scanning  the  ground  carefully, 
caught  sight  of  a  curious,  small  Abject  lying  at 
her  feet. 

Stooping  and  picking  it  up,  she  was  disgusted 
and  surprised  to  see  that  it  was  a  human  tooth. 
She  was  about  to  dash  it  down  again,  when  a 
thought  seemed  to  occur  that  caused  her  to  look 
carefully  about  for  some  minutes;  then,  as  nothing 
else  was  found,  she  stripped  some  leaves  from  a 
grape-vine  near,  and,  after  wrapping  them  about  the 
tooth,  she  put  it  carefully  away  in  her  purse,  and 
then  returned  to  where  her  parents  and  guests  were 
embarking  for  home.  As  they  rowed  down  the 
willow-fringed  stream,  nothing  was  said  concerning 
the  strange  discoveries  that  had  been  made  that 
day,  and  on  arriving  at  the  house,  the  visitors  pre 
pared  to  take  an  early  departure.  As  Mrs.  Estill 


187 

stepped  into  the  carriage,  Mrs.  War-low  gave  a 
promise  that  she  would  drive  down  to  the  Estill 
ranch  one  day  that  week. 

Clifford  returned  late  that  evening  with  some 
animals  which  he  had  bought;  and,  as  all  was 
hurry  and  bustle,  and  several  laborers  remained 
over  night,  there  was  no  chance  for  confidential 
conversation  among  the  younger  members  of  the 
Warlow  family.  But  the  next  morning  broke  with 
a  lowering  sky,  and  the  misty  rain  which  followed 
precluded  any  effort  at  farm-work ;  so  the  laborers 
went  to  their  respective  homes,  leaving  the  house 
to  its  customary  quiet. 

As  Rob  was  plodding  about  in  the  rain  and 
whistling  shrill  as  a  locust,  he  was  signaled  by 
Maud,  who  stood  out  by  the  gate,  and  when  the 
youth  joined  her  they  held  a  low,  hurried  conversa 
tion  for  a  few  minutes ;  then  Rob  darted  down  to 
the  boat,  and  rowed  rapidly  up  the  stream. 

He  was  gone  but  a  few  minutes,  however,  when 
he  returned  flushed  and  excited,  and  placed  some 
thing,  which  was  wrapped  in  leaves,  into  Maud's 
outstretched  hand. 

"  How  did  you  manage  it  ?"  she  said  in  a  low 
tone,  as  they  paused  under  an  ash-tree  near  the  river. 

"  Why,  that  was  easy  enough — I  just  put  my 
boot  on  his  snakeship's  tail,  then  taking  hold  of  the 
rattles  with  a  handful  of  leaves — and — here  they 
are.  But — oh  fury  ! — how  it  did  smell,  though  !" 
he  added  in  disgust.  "  Fourteen  rattles  and  a 
button  !  Do  n't  that  beat  the  snake-tale  of  the 
oldest  inhabitant,  Maud  ?" 


188  A  STARTLING   DISCOVERY. 

Then,  without  awaiting  a  reply,  he  added,  out 
of  breath  with  excitement: — 

"  Cliff  had  a  shocking  time  of  it  up  there  last 
Friday  night,  for  this  is  only  a  small  part  of  his 
experience." 

"Rob — what — oh,  what  can  you  mean?"  cried 
Maud,  in  wildest  excitement. 

"  Well,  I  do  n't  know  much ;  but  this  much  I 
did  learn  by  guessing  at  it  first,  then  making  him 
own  up;  for  Cliff  is  as" close-mouthed  as  an  oyster. 
From  what  I  could  learn,  it  appears  that,  while 
prowling  about  that  night  like  a  vagrant  tom-cat, 
our  good-looking  brother  ran  into  that  old  spectre 
which  shrieked  so  like  a  demon  that  night  by  the 
camp-fire.  This  time,  of  course,  it  gave  him  the 
slip,  as  it  always  does,"  he  answered. 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  horrible  sight 
has  been  seen  again,  Rob?" 

After  cautioning  her  not  to  raise  such  a  racket, 
Rob  proceeded  to  tell  of  his  encounter,  and  also  what 
he  had  learned  of  Clifford's  experience  likewise. 

"  Oh,  Rob — what  a  horribly  unreal  thing  it  all 
seems !  But  everywhere  there  is  so  much  of  mys 
tery  that  I  am  almost  wild,"  she  cried,  with  a  good 
deal  of  incoherence. 

"  Why  was  Clifford  digging  about  the  old  cot- 
tonwood  that  night,  Rob?"  she  added,  after  a  mo 
ment's  pause;  but,  as  her  brother  only  expressed 
both  surprise  and  ignorance,  she  continued :  "  But 
this  is  not  all,  Robbie ;  for  I  made  a  most  startling 
discovery  to-day — one  which  throws  a  gloomy  light 
on  the  old  tragedy  of  Bruce  and  his  wife." 


A   STARTLING   DISCOVERY.  189 

"  Why,  thicker  and  thicker !"  cried  Rob.  "  But 
what  kind  of  a  mareVnest  did  you  run  into  this 
time,  Maud?"  he  added. 

In  reply,  Maud  told  of  seeing  the  locket,  and 
of  hearing  her  father  exclaim  that  it  contained  the 
pictures  of  Bruce  and  his  wife,  and  the  strange 
assertion  which  he  had  made  while  the  Estills  were 
standing  by  the  ruined  wall. 

"  But  how  did  the  locket  ever  get  into  the 
Estills'  hands?"  Rob  said,  with  a  perplexed  look; 
then,  after  a  moment,  he  added,  excitedly : — 

"  Oh,  now  I  know  what  father  and  Mr.  Estill 
were  talking  about  in  the  barn.  I  had  just  stepped 
into  the  upper  hall-way  to  lay  a  fork  on  the  rack — 
you  know  how  strict  father  always  was  about  our 
putting  everything  in  its  proper  place — so,  to  save 
myself  a  blowing  up,  I  went  out  of  my  way  and 
had  left  the  fork  there,  and  was  about  to  hurry  on 
to  the  well  for  a  jug  of  water,  when  I  heard  Mr. 
Estill  say : — 

"'This  must  be  a  matter  of  sacred  confidence 
between  us,  Colonel ;  for  if  it  were  known  that  any 
one  of  my  people  had  participated  in  that  affair,  or 
had  been  engaged  in  the  murder,  there  are  people 
who  are  malicious  enough,  no  doubt,  to  connect 
myself  and  wife  with  the  crime ;  and  for  that  reason 
alone  I  have  always  kept  the  matter  a  profound 
secret,  even  from  Hugh  and  Mora.  The  locket 
was  set  with  rubies  and  engraved  with  the  name 
which,  you  see,  we  have  used,  and  have  only  short 
ened;  but  she  has  never  learned  its  origin,  nor 
anything  of  the  tragedy.' 


190  A  STARTLING   DISCOVERY. 

"  Then,  after  a  moment,  he  continued,  after  father 
had  said  something  which  I  could  not  quite  catch  : — 

"'If  Olin  Estill  had  only  lived,  the  mystery 
might  have  been  explained;  but  I  found  him  dead 
and  mangled  beyond  all  resemblance  to  a  human — 
nothing  to  identify  his  remains  but  the  tattered 
clothing,  which  I  recognized;  for  the  wolves  had 
torn  his  limbs  away,  and  left  his  skeleton  bleaching 
out  on  the  prairie.  Yet  the  strangest  part  of  it  all 
is  the  mysterious  resemblance  of  the  faces  in  that 
miniature  to  Mora  and  your  son.  Why,  my  wife 
was  terribly  agitated  when  she  first  met  that  boy 
of  yours ;  for  he  is  the  perfect  counterpart  of  the 
picture  of  your  friend,  who  must  have  died  years 
before  either  of  those  children  were  born.  Mora's 
resemblance  to  Ivarene — ' 

"About  that  time  I  grew  weary  of  such  rot,  and 
did  not  pay  any  further  attention  to  what  they  said. 
How  much  more  I  might  have  heard  I  can 't  guess ; 
for  I  hurried  away  to  the  well,  as  I  was  mortal 
thirsty  and  tired.  I  am  sorry  now  that  I  did  n't 
stay  and  hear  it  out,  for  there  certainly  is  some 
thing  up." 

While  talking  thus  they  had  sauntered  on  into 
the  house ;  and  while  they  stood  by  the  parlor  door 
Rob  had  made  the  concluding  remark,  which  Clif 
ford  chanced  to  overhear,  as  he  came  upon  them 
silently  through  the  carpeted  hall. 

"  Here,  you  young  conspirators — out  with  it, 
and  confess  at  once  '  what  ?s  up/  as  this  bold  rob 
ber  says  with  such  an  air  of  deep  mystery,"  Clif 
ford  said,  with  a  smile  of  curiosity. 


CONFIDENTIAL   CONFERENCE.  191 

Maud  looked  up  with  a  flash  of  resentment  in 
her  honest  Warlow  eyes;  for  she  did  not  half  like 
the  idea  of  this  Adonis-like  brother  keeping  any 
thing  from  her.  Thrusting  her  hand  into  her 
pocket,  she  drew  out  her  porte-monnaie,  as  he 
continued : — 

"Well,  Maud,  did  you  learn  anything  yester 
day  ?"  while  an  anxious  look  crept  into  his  face. 

"Yes,  I  learned  this!"  she  replied,  while  hold 
ing  out  her  hand,  in  which,  resting  on  a  piece  of 
muslin,  was  a  human  tooth,  and  that  long,  reticu 
lated  tissue,  which  he  saw  at  a  glance  was  the  rat 
tles  of  the  enormous  reptile  he  had  encountered 
while  digging  for  the  treasure. 

He  looked  at  them  in  a  startled,  wondering 
way  for  a  moment;  then,  as  if  comprehending  it 
all,  he  said: — 

"Ah,  yes — the  rattles!  But  the  tooth — that 
is  the  hardest  part  of  all." 

Maud  and  Rob  could  not  restrain  a  smile  at  the 
ghastly  pun ;  but  the  former  replied : — 

"I  found  them  where  you  had  been  digging, 
near  the  old  cotton  wood-tree.  We  know  about  the 
rattlesnake  and  that  gray-robed  figure,  which  was 
the  same  one  that  startled  us  by  the  camp-fire,  I 
really  believe.  But  that  human  tooth? — I  shall 
certainly  go  raving  mad  if  you  keep  anything 
further  from  me." 

Clifford  glanced  from  her  pale  face  to  that  of 
Rob,  which  wore  a  look  of  startled  perplexity. 

"  I  find  it  impossible  to  keep  anything  from 
your  sharp  eyes.  So  it  is  myself,  after  all,  who 


192  CONFIDENTIAL  CONFERENCE. 

has  to   confess!"    he  said,  seating  himself  on   the 
divan. 

Then,  while  the  rain  lashed  the  windows  and 
the  chill  wind  waile^  through  the  tree-tops  without, 
he  told  that  story  of  midnight  horror.  When  he 
finished,  Maud  was  pale  and  tearful,  and  Hob's 
hazel  eyes  were  round  with  mute  astonishment. 

v  "  But  Maud,  did  you  learn  the  reason  of  Mr. 
Ess — that  is  Mora's  folks — well — why  they  came 
up  yesterday  ?"  Clifford  managed  at  length  to  say 
in  a  confused  manner,  that  revealed  a  great  deal  of 
uneasiness  on  his  part,  which  was  not  at  all  lost  on 
the  sharp-eyed  couple  beside  him. 

Then,  drying  her  tears,  Maud  told  of  the  strange 
revelations  which  the  visit  of  the  Estills  had  dis 
closed  ;  and  when  she  repeated  the  singular  con 
versation  which  Robbie  had  overheard  in  the  barn, 
Clifford  cried  out  excitedly : — 

"  Ah !  that  was  the  mysterious  kinsman  who 
Mora  said  was  buried  on  the  hill- top  at  Estill 
Ranch.  He  was  one  of  the  robbers  who  perpetrated 
the  outrage  at  the  corral  years  ago.  A  bandit  and 
murderer  !  'T  is  no  wonder  that  nothing  but  net-  ' 
ties  ever  grow  on  that  grave.  It  was  through  him, 
Maud,  that  they  obtained  the  locket,  with  its 
picture  of  Bruce  and  Ivarene.  But  it  can  not  be 
that  Mr.  Estill  derived  his  great  wealth  from  the 
same  source !  If  so,  he  never  would  have  be 
trayed  himself  by  showing  the  pictures  of  the 
people  that  were  murdered  by  his  own  kinsman. 
What,  then,  became  of  the  great  treasure?"  he 


CONFIDENTIAL   CONFERENCE.  193 

sadly  asked.  But  no  one  seemed  able  to  answer 
his  question ;  for  the  whole  affair  had  now  assumed 
a  tone  of  mystery  such  as  it  had  never  worn 

before. 

17 


194  A  CLUE  TO  THE  MYSTERY. 


Chapter  XV. 

"TT  7HY  should  they  have  given  'her'  the  name 
VV  which  was  on  the  locket?  and  who  was 
the  mysterious  female  that  never  had  learned  of  the 
tragical  circumstance?"  said  Maud,  with  a  puzzled 
face. 

"I  am  unable  to  answer  your  question,  Maud," 
Clifford  replied;  but  there  was  something  in  his 
manner  that  led  the  sharp-eyed  couple  before  him 
to  suspect  he  had  detected  some  clue  which  had 
eluded  them  in  their  investigations  of  the  mystery. 

"  Cliff,  what  the  deuce  was  that  old  skull  doing 
in  the  cask  ?"  said  Rob,  innocently  ;  but,  seeing  the 
look  of  amusement  on  his  brother's  face,  he  added : 
"Or  I  mean  to  ask,  how  came  it  there?" 

"  To  answer  your  first  question  I  shall  have  to 
remind  you  that  a  dead  man's  skull  has  a  very  limited 
field  of  action,  confined  principally  to  the  pastime 
of  rolling  over  and  rattling  its  teeth  when  touched  ; 
but  how  or  why  it  was  there,  seems  only  known  to 
the  ill-natured  ophidian  which  kept  it  such  close 
company,"  Clifford  replied,  with  his  usual  strain  of 
jocular  sarcasm. 

"Oh  dear!"  said  Maud,  drearily,  while  drum 
ming  on  the  misty  window-pane.  "It  is  very  ex 
asperating  to  be  shut  up  in  a  house  on  such  a  day, 
where  every  closet  is  Tull  of  skeletons,  and  not 
dare  to  peep  into  one  of  them,"  she  added. 


A    CLUE   TO   THE   MYSTEEY.  195 

"  But  Cliff  has  been  peeping,  and  with  won 
derful  luck,  too,"  Rob  observed,  dryly. 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  the  first  fortune  hunter  who 
has  found  a  skull  or  serpent  where  he  had  hoped 
to  find  gold !"  Clifford  replied,  with  perfect  good 
nature. 

"Oh,  Clifford,  I  shudder  to  think  of  the  danger 
you  passed  through  on  that  terrible  night — all 
alone  in  that  dismal  place,  fighting  that  venomous 
monster,  with  death  in  its  fangs,  while  the  gray- 
robed  demon  hovered  near  with  its  fiery  eyes  and 
blood-chilling  scream,"  said  Maud,  tearfully,  while 
winding  her  arm  about  her  brother's  neck. 

"Now,  dear,  soft-hearted  Maud,  you  must  re 
member  that  the  path  of  those  who  strive  for  pelf 
is  thickly  beset  by  demons  and  serpents,  although 
they  may  wear  the  human  guise  and  lurk  in  the 
shadow  of  friendship.  Many,  many  are  the  skele 
tons  of  dead  hopes  and  buried  dreams  that  start 
up  as  the  graves  of  the  past  are  disturbed,"  Clifford 
replied. 

"  But  you  shall  never  spend  another  night  alone 
up  at  that  ill-omened  dwelling,  Clifford  ;  for  Rob 
shall  go  with  you  hereafter,"  she  said,  while  drying 
her  tears. 

"Well,  but  suppose  I  might  choose  some  fair 
lady  to  grace  my  spectre-haunted  home — that  would 
answer  as  well?"  he  replied,  gaily. 

"Oh!  that  would  be  a  capital  plan  indeed;  but 
I  shall  insist  on  the  right  to  choose  her,"  his  sister 
cried,  with  returning  animation. 

"  Oh  !  you  are  growing  very  liberal,  to  say  the 


196  A    CLUE   TO  THE   MYSTERY. 

least,  Miss    Maud.     I  guess    you  will  have  to  be 
satisfied  with  second  choice,"  said  Cliff. 

After  talking  awhile  over  the  mystery  which 
had  woven  such  a  tangled  web  about  their  home  in 
the  last  few  days,  Maud  exclaimed  : — 

"Robbie,  dear,  won't  you  go  and  ask  father  what 
name  was  engraved  on  the  locket?  Also  learn 
all  that  is  possible,  for  I  am  just  dying  of  anxiety  ;" 
but  as  he  began  to  smile  with  derision,  she  added, 
coaxingly :  "Now  do  go,  Rob,  please;  that's  a 
man  ;  father  never  refuses  you  anything." 

"  Catch  me  at  it !"  cried  Rob,  with  a  shrug.  "  I 
do  n't  hanker  much  after  the  dry  job  of  pumping 
the  colonel,"  he  added,  winking  at  Clifford  sig 
nificantly. 

"  No,  no,  Maud,  that  would  never  do.  Let  us 
await  the  confidence  of  our  parents,  and  try,  in  the 
meantime,  to  pick  up  what  facts  we  can.  Who 
knows,"  he  added,  "  but  we  may  stumble  on  to 
some  great  discovery  ?" 

Little,  indeed,  did  he  suspect  the  great  revela 
tions  which  the  day  held  in  store  for  them,  and 
that  events  were  about  to  transpire  which  would 
change  the  tenor  of  their  whole  lives. 

At  Mrs.  Warlow's  entrance  the  conversation  took 
on  a  less  sombre  hue,  and  when  she  told  of  the 
news  confirming  the  great  land-sale  which  was  soon 
to  be  held  at  the  land  office — a  fact  which  she  had 
learned  from  the  Estills — it  was  proposed  to  take 
a  drive  out  over  the  country  north-east,  and  find  a 
section  for  Maud  and  Rob,  which  the  colonel  would 
buy  for  their  benefit  at  the  sale. 


THE   MYSTERIOUS   TRAIL.  197 

Accordingly,  after  dinner,  as  the  weather  had 
cleared,  the  Warlow  family  drove  out  and  viewed  a 
well-watered,  rolling  tract,  equal  in  extent  to  the 
farms  of  the  colonel  and  Clifford.  After  an  hour 
spent  thus,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  drive  on 
westward  and  examine  a  country  which,  in  their 
busy  farm-life,  had  never  been  viewed,  save  at  a 
distance. 

On  arriving  at  a  point  about  three  miles  west 
of  their  home,  they  drove  down  into  a  narrow  val 
ley  or  glen,  clothed  with  tall  blue-stem  and  rank 
sunflowers,  now  beginning  to  unfold  their  golden 
blossoms.  This  jungle  of  vegetation  was  woven 
together  by  the  slender,  leafless  tendrils  of  the  love- 
vine,  which  threw  a  veil  of  coppery  red  over  the 
brilliant  green  of  the  other  vegetation. 

While  driving  slowly  through  this  almost  im 
pervious  mass  of  vegetation,  they  discovered  a  wind 
ing  but  well-beaten  trail  or  pathway,  leading  on 
down  the  valley,  and  which,  out  of  pure  curiosity, 
they  followed  until  it  disappeared  in  a  thicket  of 
plum-trees  at  the  base  of  a  low  cliff  of  magnesian 
limestone. 

As  they  paused  at  the  scrubby  grove,  wondering 
what  could  have  made  the  path,  Clifford  sprang  out 
of  the  carriage,  saying  he  would  like  to  investigate 
the  matter,  and  disappeared  among  the  trees.  He 
was  gone  so  long  that,  after  they  had  called  him 
repeatedly,  Rob  was  on  the  point  of  starting  in 
search,  when  Clifford  reappeared.  As  he  sprang 
into  the  carriage  their  questioning  was  forestalled 
by  his  saying  that  the  path  was  possibly  made  by 


198  THE   SECRET   CELL. 

wolves,  and  that  he  had  been  examining  the  cliff, 
but  had  not  succeeded  in  finding  their  den. 

He  appeared  so  pale  and  agitated,  however,  that 
Maud  regarded  him  suspiciously ;  and  when  the 
horses  flew  up  the  glen  along  the  winding  pathway 
and  through  tangled  thickets  of  blue-stem  and  sun 
flowers,  she  managed  to  ask  in  a  whisper :  — 

"  What  have  you  discovered,  Cliff?" 

"A  clue  to  the  old  mystery — but  wait,"  he 
whispered  in  reply;  and  in  silence  they  drove 
rapidly  back  to  the  Warlow  homestead. 

As  the  boys  were  leading  the  horses  into  the 
barn,  Maud  called  for  them  to  assist  her  in  nailing 
up  some  of  the  lattice  which  the  wind  had  shaken 
down  in  her  arbor;  and  when  they  joined  her  a  few 
minutes  later  in  the  vine-clad  bower,  she  cried  in  a 
low,  eager  tone:  — 

"  Clifford — Clifford !  what  did  you  see  in  that 
thicket?" 

"  Yes,  out  with  it>-quiek !"  said  Rob ;  "  for  I 
know  by  your  looks  that  you  saw  something  queer 
up  there." 

"  The  pathway, "  said  Clifford,  hurriedly, 
"plunged  into  the  thicket  of  plums;  then,  after 
winding  about  in  a  mazy  labyrinth,  it  led  up  to  the 
base  of  a  low  cliff  of  limestone,  and  there  ended  so 
abruptly  that  I  was  puzzled  to  know  what  to  make 
of  it,  but  noticing  that  the  heavy  festoon  of  grape 
vines  that  hung  down  from  the  soil  above,  looked 
as  if  they  had  been  disturbed,  I  hastily  drew  them 
aside.  Imagine  my  surprise  when  a  rough  door  was 
revealed,  hung  in  the  face  of  the  cliff.  Drawing  it 


THE  SECRET  CELL.  199 

open,  there  was  disclosed  a  low  cell  or  cavern,  which 
had  been  partly  carved  out  of  the  soft  magnesian 
limestone.  Peering  into  the  room,  I  became  satis 
fied  that  it  was  empty  of  human  occupants. 

"  The  room  was  not  more  than  a  dozen  feet 
square,  the  little  furniture  which  it  contained  being 
dilapidated  beyond  description.  As  I  stepped  into 
the  room  to  examine  things  more  closely,  the  fact 
became  very  plain  that  some  one  had  occupied  it 
recently,  for  the  mouldy  couch  still  showed  the  im 
print  of  a  human  form. 

"  Some  broken  utensils  stood  about  on  the  hearth, 
where  a  fire-place  had  been  hewn  out  of  the  soft 
rock.  The  ashes  and  charred  wood,  the  bones  of 
-fish  and  birds,  scattered  about  on  the  floor,  confirmed 
the  fact  that  it  was  used,  in  a  desultory  manner,  as 
a  habitation. 

"I  was  turning  to  leave,  thinking  perhaps  that 
I  had  invaded  the  private  dwelling  of  some  squatter, 
when  my  attention  was  arrested  by  seeing  a  vial 
half  concealed  in  a  cleft  in  the  rocky  wall.  Inly 
wondering  why  any  one  should  wish  to  conceal  such 
a  trifle,  I  drew  it  forth,  rubbing  the  grime  and  dust 
from  it  as  I  did  so. 

"  What  was  my  surprise  to  see  that  there  was  a 
paper  within.  In  eager  haste  I  uncorked  the  bottle 
and  drew  out  this  document,"  said  he,  holding  up 
with  trembling  hands  a  sheet  that  was  discolored 
with  age  and  blotted  with  mildew,  but  covered  closely 
with  writing,  still  faintly  legible.  "I  had  only  time 
to  glance  at  the  startling  title  when  I  heard  your 
voices  calling,  so  I  closed  the  door,  drew  the  vines 


200  JOUENAL  OF   IVARENE. 

carefully  over  the  entrance,  and  joined  you,  feeling 
like  one  in  a  dream. 

"Now  let's  hasten,"  he  said,  "and  read  this 
document,  which  will,  I  believe,  unveil  the  mystery 
of  Bruce  and  Ivarene."  Then,  unrolling  the  time- 
worn  paper  again,  with  bated  breath  and  loudly 
beating  heart,  he  read  aloud  as  follows :  — 

SEPTEMBER  14,  1849,  1 

"  NEAR  THE  STONE  CORRAL,  ON  THE  SANTA  FE  TRAIL.  / 

"  This  is  written  by  Ivarene  Walraven,  late  of 
the  City  of  Mexico,  who  offers  prayers  that  it  may 
fall  into  hands  of  kindness,  who  will  convey  to  my 
kinsman,  Herr  Von  Brunn,  of  Vera  Cruz — to  him 
this  missive,  full  of  grief  and  misfortune. 

"  We  were  attacked  by  savages  on  the  night  of 
August  22d,  our  servants  slain,  our  wealth  all  gone, 
and  our  kind  and  tender  friend,  Senor  Warlow, 
murdered.  Bruce,  my  noble  husband,  he  did  me 
wrap  within  the  folds  of  a  serape,  and  dashed  away 
out  on  the  dark  prairie  with  me  in  his  arms,  far, 
far  away  from  the  noise  of  murder  and  savagery. 
He  watched  by  my  side  in  the  tall  grass  all  that 
day  next  come;  for  I  was  ill  to  death's  gate. 

"  Then,  near  eventide,  there  came  to  us  a  hunter 
strange,  who  said  he  slay  the  bison-flesh  for  trailers 
by,  and  beg  we  go  to  his  hidden  cell  in  a  cliffy 
rock.  His  evil  eyes  I  much  mistrust;  but  he  seem 
friendly  be,  and  food  prepare  for  us  when  there 
we  go.  On  morning  rise  my  babe  is  born — a 
daughter  sweet — and  darling  Bruce  he  tenderly 
nurses  me  while  the  hunter  watches  near  the  trail 
for  wagons  go  by ;  but  day  by  day  nothing  sees  he ; 


JOURNAL   OF   IVARENE.  201 

then  Bruce  he  say,  'I  shall  go  myself  to-morrow 
day.'  The  hunter  frown  when  this  he  say.  That 
morning,  as  the  hunter  go,  he  say,  with  cunning 
smile :  'A  flask  of  wine  for  senora  and  senor.' 
Then  leaves  he  it  and  go  away  as  at  all  time. 
When  him  had  disappeared,  I  scent  a  strangeness 
in  the  flask,  and  Bruce  poured  out  a  larger  part; 
then  broke  he  the  glassen  flask  upon  the  floor. 
When  a  cup  he  bring,  and  say :  '  What  is  the  scent 
of  this  wine  he  gave  ?'  I  perceive  the  deadly  loco's 
odor  there,  and  say  it  poison  is;  it  drives  them 
mad  for  evermore.  Bruce  he  frown,  and  meat  and 
drink  prepare  ;  and  when  the  hunter  he  return  he 
say :  '  The  flask  is  broken  all !  give  us  wine  some 
more.'  But  the  hunter  rudely  began  the  meat  to 
eat,  waiting  not  at  all.  After  him  did  partake  in 
his  rude  way  of  the  food  he  threw  his  coat  by ;  then 
sat  he  strangely  still  awhile.  Sprang  he  at  length 
to  his  feet  with  loud  shriek  and  cry,  then  rushed 
away  into  the  night.  ' Ah  !  the  wine  I  put  into  his 
food  is  poison  be,'  Bruce  he  say  while  bar  the  door. 
In  the  hunter's  coat  we  find  a  little  book  for  writ 
ing  some,  and  one  leaf  did  have  these  letter  writ : — 

" '  EAGLE  BEAK, — Take  all  the  braves  to  Paw 
nee  Rock,  and  there  I  will  go  soon.  Several  jugs 
of  wine  are  ready  for  you  to  take  along ;  but  do  not 
let  them  taste  until  there  ;  I  have  put  deadly  loco 
in  the  wine,  which  will  kill  them  all,  or  drive 
them  mad;  so  there  will  be  the  less  to  share  the 
cask  of  gold — ' 

"Then  it  was  left  unfinished,  and  another  leaf 
had  been  torn — some  out. 

18 


202  JOURNAL   OF    IVARENE. 

"  SEPTEMBER  15th. 

"  I  shall  write  it  more  for  Bruce ;  he  go  to  the 
trail  to  watch  for  travelers  go.  I  am  all  by  me, 
and  my  blue-eyed,  dark-haired  daughter  here,  with 
barred  door  I  am  much  secured;  but  lonely  so  for 
darling  Bruce. 

"I  try  so  hard  to  plainly  use  this  English 
tongue,  but  strange  it  seems.  My  baby  dear  I 
deck  with  my  mother's  locket,  where  is  the  picture 
of  dear  Bruce  and  me — my  dear  mother's  name  on 
it :  Morelia.  Oh,  time  is  lonely  now  while  Bruce 
away.  I  will  lay  this  aside,  its  vial  in,  and  will 
write  it  again  after  I  unbar  the  door  and  watch 
for  him." 


THE    WEB   OF   MYSTERY.  203 


Chapter  XVI. 

!  they  were  murdered  by  the  wild  hunter, — 
and  this  is  all  that  remains  to  tell  the  fate  of 
our  father's  friends/7  cried  Maud,  tearfully.  "But 
do  you  think,  Clifford — "  She  paused  a  moment, 
leaving  her  question  unfinished ;  then,  springing  to 
her  feet  in  wildest  excitement,  she  exclaimed : — 

"  We  have  been  blind — blind !  but  it  is  all  clear 
now!"  and  as  Rob  stood  by,  dumb  with  astonish 
ment,  she  said,  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  while  she 
wrung  her  hands  in  the  intensity  of  her  great 
emotion  :  "  Bruce's  daughter — Morelia — Mora  I" 

"  Yes,  yes !  I  have  suspected  it  since  the  day 
father  called  her  Ivarene.  I  always  felt,  from  the 
moment  that  we  met,  as  though  I  had  known  her 
all  my  life.  There  seemed  to  be  a  look  of  recogni 
tion  beaming  from  the  eyes  of  Mora  Estill  that  has 
haunted  me  for  months.  My  God !  is  it  possible  I 
have  only  known  her  three  short  weeks?  it  seems 
like  an  eternity,"  said  Clifford,  in  a  musing  tone, 
while  Rob  exclaimed,  hurriedly : — 

"  That  mad  hunter  was  Olin  Estill ;  and  it  was 
he  who  must  have  stolen  Mora  at  the  cavern  from 
Ivarene,  and  left  her  at  the  Estill  Ranch  before  he 
met  his  tragic  fate.  His  is  the  haunted,  lonesome 
grave  on  the  hill-top,  of  which  Mora  spoke." 

"But,    oh,    what    a    terrible    retribution! — his 


204  THE   WEB    OF    MYSTERY. 

limbs  torn  away  by  wrangling  wolves,  and  his 
grinning  skull  left  bleaching  on  the  wild  prairie," 
said  Maud,  tearfully.  "  Dear  Bruce  and  Ivarene," 
she  continued,  with  a  sob-=— "  must  their  history  end 
in  silence  and  oblivion  ?" 

"  Do  you  think,  Maud,  that  the  hunter,  with  all 
the  devilish  cunning  of  madness,  could  have  crept 
back  and  poisoned  theni,  and  then  stolen  the  child  ?" 

"Ah !  it  is  too  sad  to  contemplate,"  she  replied. 
"  Their  fate  would  have  been  worse  than  death ; 
for  1  now  remember  having  read  how  ill-starred 
Carlotta,  Maximilian's  unhappy  empress,  was  poi 
soned  by  some  terrible  Mexican  drug,  and  all  the 
world  knows  of  her  hopeless  madness,  which  will 
last  until  death." 

a  I  shudder  to  think  who  that  gray-robed, 
ghastly  creature,  with  its  tangled  locks  and  glassy 
eyes,  may  be,"  said  Clifford,  hoarse  with  emotion. 

"  Not  Bruce  !  Oh  no,  no  !  it  can  not  be  !  Oh 
God  !  what  a  fate  !"  cried  Maud,  with  another  flood 
of  tears,  as  she  thought  of  the  hideous  contrast  with 
the  smiling,  handsome  lover  in  the  flower-entwined 
balcony  of  Monteluma. 

"  I  will  go  and  take  a  more  extended  search  up 
at  that  cavern,"  said  Clifford.  "  It  may  be  possible 
to  make  some  more  discoveries.  But  let  us  keep 
this  matter  secret,  and  when  our  parents  are  willing 
to  give  us  their  confidence,  then  we  will  divulge  it, 
but  not  before,"  to  which  the  others  agreed;  and 
while  Maud  was  still  cautioning  him  to  be  very 
careful  of  danger,  our  young  hero  rode  up  by  his 
dwelling,  then  galloped  rapidly  along  the  wind- 


THE    WEB   OF    MYSTERY.  205 

ing  pathway  to  the  cliff  where  the  cavern  was 
concealed. 

Alighting,  and  securing  his  horse  to  a  low  plum- 
tree  in  the  thicket,  he  went  to  the  door  of  the  cell, 
and,  finding  all  as  he  had  left  it,  began  searching 
the  room  critically. 

He  was  reasoning  in  his  mind  the  probabilities 
of  finding  the  treasure,  which  the  letter  of  the 
hunter  led  him  to  suspect  was  hidden  near;  for 
he  had  got  a  very  clear  glimpse  of  that  villain's 
nature,  when  he  read  the  part  that  was  crossed  out 
after  he  had  written :  "  The  fewer  to  share,  the 
greater  the  gain." 

Clifford  felt  certain  that  Olin  Estill  had  re 
mained  with  the  treasure  after  he  had  induced  his 
confederate  in  crime,  Eagle  Beak  (who  was,  no 
doubt,  an  Indian  chief),  to  decoy  the  Indians  away 
to  Pawnee  Rock.  The  wretch  must  have  decided 
to  poison  Eagle  Beak  when  he  marked  the  letter 
over,  and  no  doubt  he  had  suppressed  the  fact  of 
the  wine  being  drugged,  so  that  his  confederate 
would  also  drink  of  the  liquor. 

"  Eagle  Beak  must  have  been  a  white  man,  dis 
guised  as  an  Indian,  or  he  would  never  have  been 
able  to  read,"  thought  Clifford;  but  as  he  knew  .a 
great  many  half-breeds  had  become  prominent  In 
dian  chiefs,  he  reconciled  this  fact  with  the  position 
which  that  marauder  held.  Allowing  such  to  have 
been  the  case,  young  Warlow  knew  that  he  could 
have  been  no  match  in  cunning  deviltry  for  the 
educated  scoundrel,  Estill;  so  he  must  certainly 
have  fallen  into  the  diabolical  trap  which  the  latter 


206  THE   WEB   OF    MYSTERY. 

villain  had  laid  for  him,  and,  with  all  his  Indians, 
he  had  drunk  himself  to  madness  and  death  from 
the  flasks  and  jugs  of  drugged  and  poisoned  liquor. 
They  had  all  shared  a  common  fate  long  before 
reaching  that  towering  and  legendary  land-mark 
of  Pawnee  Rock.  All  the  actors  in  that  dire  trag 
edy  had  met  with  such  swift  retribution  that  no 
one  was  left,  in  a  few  days  after  the  robbery,  to 
care  for  the  great  treasure. 

"Yes;  the  mighty  fortune  of  Monteluma,  its  red 
gold  and  gleaming  gems,  is  hidden  away  near  by, 
only  waiting  to  be  restored  to  their  rightful  heir, 
Mora  Estill,"  said  Clifford  aloud,  as  he  clenched  his 
hand,  and  the  blood  surged  to  his  face  in  a  crim 
son  glow. 

The  gold,  he  believed,  had  been  hastily  buried 
near  the  Stone  Corral  by  the  leaders  while  the 
savages  were  stupefied  with  liquor;  but  the  casket 
of  gems,  our  hero  believed,  was  concealed  in  the 
cavern;  so  it  was  with  a  wildly  beating  heart  that 
our  young  friend  began  searching  the  mouldy  pallet 
of  straw,  but  nothing  rewarded  his  scrutiny. 

He  had  provided  himself  with  a  large  dirk-knife, 
which  his  father  had  carried  in  the  turbulent  mining 
days,  and  with  the  heavy  metal  handle  of  the  weapon 
Clifford  proceeded  to  sound  the  walls  of  the  cavern; 
but  no  hollow  echo  replied,  to  betray  the  cavity 
which  he  hoped  to  discover.  The  fire-place,  chim 
ney,  and  the  ceiling,  also  were  subjected  to  the  same 
scrutiny,  but  with  no  better  result.  Then  he  began 
near  the  door,  and  sounded  the  solid  floor  until  he 
arrived  at  the  old  couch ;  but  the  stone  seemed  to 


THE  WEB  OF   MYSTERY.  207 

be  a  solid  sheet  of  limestone,  on  which  the  hilt  of 
the  weapon  rang  with  a  clear,  metallic  clang,  reso 
nant  but  disheartening. 

Hastily  removing  the  old  mattress,  young  War- 
low  resumed  his  explorations;  and  as  he  vainly 
searched  the  floor  his  heart  sank  like  lead,  and  he 
paused  to  wipe  the  cold  sweat  from  his  face  before 
finishing  the  last  remaining  spot  in  one  corner.  A 
feeling  of  dread  and  apprehension  overcame  him, 
and  he  shrank  from  the  ordeal.  Hope  deferred 
began  to  dampen  the  enthusiasm  of  our  young 
"  Fortune  Hunter,"  and  he  could  scarcely  summon  his 
courage  to  the  final  test  of  searching  that  one  remain 
ing  spot ;  but,  drawing  a  long  sigh,  he  resumed  the 
operation,  and  the  very  first  blow  caused  his  brain 
to  reel  and  the  blood  to  bound  madly  in  his  veins; 
for  the  hollow  sound  which  the  blow  elicited  proved 
that  the  hidden  cavity  was  reached  at  last. 

The  bottom  of  the  cavern  was  thickly  incrusted 
with  filth  and  damp  earth  at  that  place;  but  he  dug 
with  frantic  energy,  and  soon  the  dim  outline  of  a 
square  flag-stone  was  visible,  Breathless  and  pant 
ing,  young  Warlow  pried  at  the  stone,  and  as  it 
slowly  arose  he  closed  his  eyes,  as  if  fearing  to 
glance  down  into  the  cavity  below. 

"Ah,  if  this  is  the  casket  of  gems,  Mora  will  be 
the  greatest  heiress  in  all  the  land,  and  the  gulf 
which  the  "riches  of  the  cattle-king  made  between 
myself  and  her  will  only  be  widened  by  this  great 
wealth,"  Clifford  thought;  and  he  now,  for  the  first 
time,  regretted  having  come  out  on  a  search  which 
might  lead  to  his  life-long  misery. 


208  THE   GEMS  OF   MONTELUMA. 

For  one  moment  the  tempter  whispered  in  his 
ear;  but  quickly  the  Warlow  honor  triumphed,  and 
he  looked  down  resolutely  into  the  cavity. 

Yes!  there  was  the  casket,  and  beside  it  a  roll 
of  papers. 

Fate  had  been  fickle  and  cold  so  long ;  but  now, 
when  her  smile  was  worse  than  a  frown,  she  could 
easily  relent. 

Catching  up  the  papers  and  casket,  he  sprang 
across  the  room  to  the  door  with  a  hoarse  cry  of 
delight.  Upon  the  decayed  old  parchment  he  could 
only  discern  one  faint  word,  Monteluma;  then  the 
casket  dropped  from  his  nerveless  grasp  and  fell  to 
the  stone  floor  with  a  crash. 

An  exclamation  of  delight  escaped  him  as  the 
gems  which  had  fallen  upon  the  floor,  flashed  back 
the  sun-rays  in  scintillating  splendor,  and  the  low, 
dull  room  was  lit  by  a  glare  like  the  lightning- 
riven  storm-cloud. 

It  was  a  scene  of  bewildering  beauty — of  fasci 
nating  splendor — that  met  his  gaze : — great  diamonds, 
that  shot  broad  flashes  of  rainbow  light;  strands  of 
pale  pearls,  glinting  in  fitful  splendor;  burning 
rubies,  that  poured  forth  flames  of  crimson,  which 
mingled  with  the  rays  shed  by  the  amethysts  of  rose, 
purple,  and  lilac;  while  the  lurid,  baleful  fire  of 
opals  and  emeralds  flickered  and  glimmered  in  the 
sunlight. 

Stooping  down,  young  Warlow  gathered  up  the 
priceless  gems,  trembling  meanwhile  at  the  strange, 
unreal  event,  and  after  securely  placing  them  again 
within  the  casket,  and  rearranging  the  room,  he 


THE   GEMS   OF   MONTELUMA.  209 

mounted  his  horse  and  galloped  back  over  the  swell 
ing  hills. 

As  the  hoofs  of  his  gray  Norman  tore  through 
the  thickets  of  rank  grass,  tangled  and  woven  in  a 
maze  of  golden,  leafless  tendrils  by  the  slender 
love-vine,  or  bruised  the  mignonette  until  all  the 
moist,  sultry  air  was  rich  with  its  pungent  fragrance, 
Clifford  was  revolving  in  his  mind  several  plans  for 
concealing  the  mighty  treasure  of  which  he  had 
just  become  the  guardian.  He  concluded  that  he 
must  find  a  secure  hiding-place  at  his  dwelling, 
where  the  casket  might  remain  until  the  proper 
moment  should  arrive  when  he  could  reveal  the 
discovery,  and  restore  the  property  to  its  rightful 
owner. 

On  arriving  at  his  dwelling,  Clifford  tied  his 
horse  in  the  stable,  then  entered  the  house,  lock 
ing  the  door  and  drawing  the  blinds,  so  as  to 
be  safe  from  intrusion  while  he  pondered  over  the 
situation. 

The  room  was  a  tastefully-furnished  apartment, 
carpeted  with  a  rich,  dark  carpet,  a  remnant  of 
luxury  that  had  once  adorned  the  old  plantation 
home,  and  supplied  with  easy  chairs,  a  book-case, 
well  filled,  and  some  good  paintings,  which  were 
gifts  from  his  early  friends. 

This  room  was  the  gathering-place  for  the  men 
and  boys  of  Clifford's  neighborhood  on  rainy  days 
and  lonesome  Sundays,  and  here  it  was  that  he 
spent  most  of  his  leisure  time  in  reading  or  study. 

At  length  he  arose  and  went  to  the  attic,  from 
which  place  he  soon  returned  with  a  case  of  tools. 


210  THE    GEMS    OF    MONTELUMA. 

Then,  taking  up  the  carpet  in  the  corner  of  the 
room,  he  sawed  out  a  place  in  the  floor  large  enough 
to  admit  the  strong,  iron-bound  chest,  which  he  had 
dragged  out  from  the  adjoining  room. 

After  hastily  tacking  some  cleats  on  the  boards, 
which  he  had  sawed  out  of  the  floor,  thus  providing 
a  lid  for  the  cavity,  he  placed  the  chest  within  the 
aperture.  The  bottom  of  the  strong  box  rested  on 
the  earth  below,  and  its  top  came  nearly  even  with 
the  floor.  In  a  small  compartment  of  this  chest 
young  Warlow  placed  the  jewels ;  then  he  paused 
awhile  to  look  at  the  roll  of  parchments. 

These  documents  proved  to  be  the  patents  to 
the  estate  of  Monteluma,  and  Clifford  could  dimly 
see  the  signatures  of  Charles  V  and  Philip  II, 
with  the  broad  seal  of  the  Spanish  crown  on  the 
mildewed,  discolored,  yet  precious  parchments. 

There  was,  in  addition,  a  large  envelope,  heavily 
sealed,  on  which  the  superscription  was  quite  dim. 
In  the  waning  light  young  Warlow  failed  to  de 
cipher  it;  but  promising  himself  that  he  would 
soon  examine  this  mystery-hinting  missive  at  greater 
leisure,  he  placed  all  the  papers  in  the  chest,  which 
he  securely  locked,  closed  the  trap-door,  and  tacked 
down  the  carpet ;  then,  fastening  up  the  house  with 
great  care,  he  hurried  down  to  his  father's  dwelling. 


THE   RED    GOLD    OF   MONTELUMA.  211 


Chapter  XVII. 

AUD  and  Eob  met  Clifford  at  the  gate,  and 
iVJ.  as  he  passed  under  the  latticed  arch  where  the 
trumpet-vine  clambered  with  succulent  ambition,  its 
sprays  of  flame-red  bugles  mottled  with  spots  of 
velvety  black,  Maud  said  eagerly : — 

"  I  was  growing  uneasy  about  you,  Cliff.  Did 
you  see  nothing  of  that  strange,  gray-robed  creature 
up  at  the  cell?" 

"  Nothing  whatever ;  but  I  am  led  to  believe 
that  mysterious  being  often  stays  there.  We  must 
keep  a  sharp  watch  on  the  place  hereafter,  and  per 
haps  we  may  unravel  the  mystery,"  he  replied, 
anxious  to  lead  the  subject  away  fropa  his  recent 
search. 

As  he  stood,  dreading  further  questioning,  the 
supper-bell  sounded,  and  he  quickly  moved  on  into 
the  house,  determined  that  he  would  conceal  his  dis 
covery  until  he  had  made  a  search  for  the  gold  also. 

The  Warlow  family  retired^  early  that  night ; 
but  as  the  clock  struck  two  Clifford  arose,  and 
listening  to  be  certain  that  Rob  was  safe  in  the 
arms  of  Morpheus,  he  then  stepped  lightly  out  on 
to  the  veranda,  and,  after  pausing  a  moment  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps  to  draw  on  his  boots,  hurried  down 
to  the  barn. 

After  saddling  one  of  his  Norman  horses,  he 
rode  up  to  his  dwelling,  where  he  secured  the  iron 


212  MY  FATHER'S  GOLD. 

rod  and  spade  with  which  he  had  prosecuted  his 
former  search,  and  then  galloped  on  down  to  the 
old  cottonwood-tree. 

Tying  his  horse  to  an  ash-tree  on  the  river  bank, 
he  began  digging  on  the  very  spot  where  he  had 
unearthed  the  cask  with  all  its  attending  horrors. 
While  throwing  the  soil  out  of  the  pit,  he  soon 
forgot  the  dangers  and  disappointment  which  had 
attended  that  adventure,  [and  in  his  eagerness  to 
reach  the  shattered  cask,  still  remaining  below  him, 
he  labored  with  such  energy  that  he  soon  reached 
the  object  of  his  search. 

As  he  began  to  clear  the  dirt  from  the  shattered 
cask,  he  often  listened  to  hear  the  warning  rattle  that 
would  announce  the  presence  of  the  mate  to  that 
venomous  reptile  which  he  had  slain  here  •  a  few 
weeks  previous;  but  no  trace  of  the  serpent  was 
found.  While  removing  the  last  spadeful  of  earth, 
the  thought  came  to  him  like  a  flash  of  sunlight  that 
the  snake  had  been  placed  within  the  cask  for  the 
very  purpose  of  terrifying  and  discouraging  any  one 
from  searching  deeper  after  he  had  unearthed  it. 

He  remembered  having  read  of  circumstances 
where  reptiles  had  been  found  imprisoned  in  rock, 
where  they  had  survived  the  confinement  of  an  era 
of  time  to  which  twenty-seven  years  was  a  short 
period  in  comparison  ;  so  it  appeared  that  the  snake 
might  have  been  placed  there  when  the  cask  was 
buried,  and  had  lived  and  developed  into  the  enor 
mous  reptile  which  had  served  to  unnerve  him  and 
arrest  his  search  on  the  first  occasion. 

It  had  occurred  to  him,  before  digging,  that  the 


213 

cask  had  been  buried  by  the  wretches  who  were 
engaged  in  the  massacre  at  the  corral,  and  that  the 
treasure  was  secreted  just  below  the  cask.  This  be 
lief  had  resulted  from  his  successful  search  at  the 
cavern,  and  had  ripened  now  into  almost  convic 
tion  ;  so  he  had  resolved  to  search  deeper  on  the 
same  spot  where  he  had  met  with  his  first  signal 
failure. 

"How  true  it  is  that  we  should  always  look  be 
low  the  surface  of  treachery,  enmrty,  and  failure  for 
the  true  gold  of  success !"  said  young  Warlow, 
meanwhile  removing  the  last  stave  of  the  old  cask, 
and  boring  down  with  the  iron  rod  into  the  bottom 
of  the  pit. 

As  the  instrument  struck  hard  against  some  re 
sisting  object,  but  two  feet  below,  he  felt  the  shock 
of  a  hot  thrill  of  excitement ;  then  grasping  his 
spade  with  trembling  hands,  he  soon  reached  the 
goal  of  his  labors. 

Another  cask  was  revealed  ! 

Yes ;  there  was  the  treasure,  he  felt  with  all  the 
conviction  of  certainty,  that  he  had  so  long  vainly 
hoped  to  recover.  He  struck  the  head  of  the  cask 
several  blows  with  his  spade,  and  as  the  wood  crushed 
in,  he  paused  with  the  same  old  feeling  of  vacillation 
and  dread  that  had  seized  him  when  the  precious  cas 
ket  lay  unopened  before  him  at  the  secret  cavern, — 
the  irresolute,  wavering  sensation,  the  fear  of  dis 
appointment,  which  so  often  assails  us  when  fortune's 
phantom  stands  dimly  near,  and  we  hesitate  to  grasp 
her  beckoning  hand,  fearing  vaguely  that  a  buffet 
may  await  us.  It  was  in  such  a  mood  young  War- 


214 

low  stood,  while  the  hopes  and  fears  coursed 
dreamily  through  his  soul.  The  sweat-drops  rained 
from  his  brow,  and  fell  trickling  down  through  the 
pale  moonlight.  At  last,  with  shaking  hand,  he  lit 
his  lantern  and  peered  down  into  the  cask  below  ; 
and  as  he  slowly  cleared  out  the  fragments  of  the 
shattered  head,  he  saw  that  there  was  a  mass  of 
fleecy  wool  filling  the  cask  completely.  Tearing 
this  aside  with  nerveless  fingers  and  panting  haste, 
there  was  revealed  row  after  row  of  deer-skin  bags, 
with  the  words, 

"GEORGE  WARLOW,  1849," 

plainly  lettered  upon  their  sides.  With  his  knife  he 
quickly  severed  the  thong  that  bound  one  of  them, 
and  the  dull,  red  gold  gleamed  back  in  the  flicker 
ing  light ! 

"Oh  God!  at  last— at  last !"  cried  our  hero 
(who  certainly  has  earned  his  title),  as  broken  sobs 
shook  his  frame,  and  he  leaned  faint  and  dizzy 
against  the  side  of  the  pit.  But  while  he  stood, 
weak  and  panting,  a  wild,  frightened  snort  from  his 
horse  caused  him  to  bound  out  of  the  pit,  and 
hurry  forward  to  where  he  had  fastened  the  animal. 
When  he  reached  the  tree  the  usually  quiet  creature 
was  found  to  be  trembling  with  fear  or  excitement. 
After  caressing  the  sleek  Norman  for  a  moment, 
and  speaking  in  a  soothing  tone  to  quiet  the  crea 
ture,  Clifford  walked  back  toward  the  pit;  but  as 
he  came  into  the  moonlight,  he  paused  a  moment 
to  take  a  full  breath  of  the  light  breeze,  which  was 
rippling  the  water  and  whispering  among  the  trees. 


THE   PHANTOM.  215 

Far  down  the  valley  he  could  trace  the  silvery 
veil  of  vapor,  revealing  the  course  of  the  narrow 
stream,  and  among  the  dense  shadows  of  willow  and 
vines  the  fire-flies  wove  their  webs  of  glimmering 
light.  The  midsummer  night  was  still  and  tran 
quil,  the  silence  only  broken  by  the  moan  of  the 
brook  and  the  chirp  of  insects ;  the  heavy  dew- 
drops  on  tree  and  shrub  glinted  and  flashed  in  the 
moonbeams  that  sifted  through  the  willows  in  a 
sheen  of  wavering  silver. 

The  quavering  scream  of  a  wolf  on  some  dismal 
hill-top — a  sound  heard  nightly  all  over  the  West 
ern  prairies,  but  one  that  never  fails  to  send  a  cold 
thrill  of  horror  through  the  lone  traveler — startled 
Clifford  from  the  momentary  reverie  into  which  he 
had  fallen,  and  brought  back  vividly  the  remem 
brance  of  that  night  of  terror  and  danger,  which 
now  seemed  so  long  ago  ;  and,  as  if  the  very  thought 
had  conjured  up  the  spirits  of  the  past,  that  well- 
remembered  spectre,  gray-robed,  with  snaky  locks 
and  glaring  eyes,  darted  from  among  the  shadows 
and  with  its  bony,  talon-like  fingers  clutched  at 
young  Warlow's  throat. 

Not  a  sound  came  from  the  lips  that  were  drawn 
back  from  its  snaggled  fangs,  but  with  its  loathsome, 
grave-like  breath  full  on  his  cheek,  it  closed  in  a 
death  grapple  with  the  startled  and  horrified  youth. 
A  wild  struggle  ensued ;  the  rank  vines  and  slender 
willows  were  trampled  to  the  earth ;  and  soon  the 
combatants  stood  on  the  banks  of  the  stream,  by  a 
deep,  dark  pool,  and  the  fierce,  unearthly  creature, 
tried  to  force  Clifford's  head  beneath  the  water. 


216  THE    PHANTOM. 

As  the  fiendish,  murderous  intention  of  his  as 
sailant  became  apparent,  young  Warlow  sprang  back 
from  the  danger  that  yawned  before  him,  and  tore 
loose  from  the  fury-blinded  wretch,  which  again 
darted  at  Clifford,  grappling  with  him  in  all  the 
frenzy  and  desperation  of  a  maniac. 

The  failing  strength  of  the  strange  creature  be 
came  more  apparent  every  moment;  so  Clifford  de 
termined  to  first  exhaust  it  by  a  violent  struggle, 
then  bind  it  with  the  lariat  which  hung  at  his  sad 
dle  ;  and  soon  it  was  an  easy  matter  for  our  athletic 
and  vigorous  young  hero  to  drag  the  panting  wretch 
to  where  his  horse  stood  trembling  with  terror  and 
wild  with  fright.  Clifford  spoke  in  a  soothing  tone, 
and  when  the  horse  became  once  more  quiet,  he 
reached  for  the  lariat,  while  holding  the  maniac 
with  one  hand;  but  with  a  desperate  wrench  the 
spectral  being  tore  loose  from  his  grasp,  and  bounded 
away  with  a  loud  yell.  Then,  as  it  fled  swiftly  away 
over  the  prairie,  at  every  step  it  would  shriek  like 
a  mangled  hound — the  soundg  rowing  fainter,  until 
at  length  it  died  out  in  silence  on  the  grassy  hills. 

With  a  prolonged  shiver,  Clifford  started  like 
one  awakened  from  a  terrible  night-mare ;  then  re 
membering  the  new-found  treasure,  he  hurried  back 
to  the  pit,  and  peered  down — as  though  fearful  that 
he  should  find  it  all  a  dream. 

But  no — there  was  the  red  gold,  resting  where 
it  had  lain  so  long. 

Clifford  paused  a  moment,  irresolute  and  uncer 
tain  what  course  to  pursue.  How  should  he  remove 
this  vast  treasure  to  a  place  of  security  ?  he  was 


TRANSPORTING   THE   GOLD.  217 

asking  himself,  when  there  recurred  to  his  mind  the 
fact  that  there  was  harness  in  his  stable,  and  an  old, 
stout  sled  there  also.  The  latter  had  been  used  in 
transporting  stone  from  the  old  wall  to  build  his 
dwelling,  and  was  admirably  adapted  to  just  such  a 
purpose  as  bearing  up  the  heavy  sacks  of  coin.  So 
young  Warlow  lost  no  time  in  hurrying  down  to 
the  stable. 

As  he  nervously  harnessed  the  horse  by  the  dim 
light  of  the  lantern,  he  was  devoured  with  anxiety, 
lest  something  should  occur  that  would  yet  rob  him 
of  the  fruits  of  his  great  discovery.  "  What  if  that 
uncanny  demon  should  return,  and  undo  all  his  labor 
by  some  diabolical  plan  or  act?"  he  found  himself 
saying  in  a  half-audible  tone,  as  with  trembling 
haste  he  hurried  back  to  the  treasure — and  found 
all  his  fears  were  groundless,  for  every  thing  re 
mained  as  he  had  left  it. 

When  he  attempted  to  lift  the  sacks  of  coin  he 
found  that  it  was  no  light  task,  for  each  one  of  the 
stout  bags  weighed  fully  forty  pounds ;  but  with 
great  difficulty  he  loaded  ten  of  them  on  to  the  low 
vehicle,  then  led  the  horse  up  to  the  dwelling,  close 
to  the  door,  where,  unhitching  the  animal  and  se 
curing  him  to  the  stone  post  near  by,  he  proceeded 
to  carry  the  sacks  into  the  dwelling. 

Five  of  the  first  were  lettered  with  the  name  of 
his  father.  These  he  placed  by  themselves.  Then, 
taking  up  the  carpet  and  the  floor  where  he  had 
concealed  the  chest,  he  untied  the  remaining  five 
sacks,  and  emptied  their  glittering  contents  into  the 
iron-bound  box.  When  all  this  was  completed,  he 

19 


218  A    MILLION   OF   TREASURE. 

returned  for  another  load,  but  not  without  again  en 
tertaining  grave  fears  for  the  safety  of  the  precious 
cask,  which  he  found  still  undisturbed. 

Four  more  loads  of  the  coin  emptied  the  cask. 
Then  came  the  work  of  refilling  the  pit,  and  obliter 
ating  all  trace  of  the  search.  Then,  after  returning 
the  sled  and  harness  to  their  accustomed  places, 
Clifford  sat  down,  faint  and  weary,  to  feast  his  eyes 
on  the  grand  sight,  the  enormous  wealth  that  was 
displayed  by  the  lamp-light. 

More  than  four  hundred  thousand  dollars  in 
gold  lay  in  a  glittering,  red  mass  before  him !  The 
coin  almost  filled  the  chest,  while  in  the  shallow 
compartment  were  the  gems,  which  he  had  taken 
from  their  casket,  that  he  might  once  more  admire 
them  and  feast  his  eyes  on  their  splendor. 

The  gems — he  remembered  having  heard  his 
father  say — represented  more  than  half  a  million 
dollars ;  and  he  tried  to  realize  what  this  vast  aggre 
gation  of  wealth  meant — this  million  of  treasure  that 
he  had  restored  to  the  light  since  the  last  sunrise; 
but  only  faintly  could  the  young  "  Fortune  Hunter" 
comprehend  the  power  and  grandeur  of  the  treasure 
before  him. 

Out  among  the  mass  of  red  and  yellow  gold 
trailed  a  strand  of  frosty,  glimmering  pearls.  The 
great  diamonds,  that  flashed  their  rivers  of  light; 
and  rubies,  that  mingled  their  rays  of  rose  and 
crimson  with  the  green  glint  of  emeralds;  lurid 
opals,  sapphires  of  sparkling  blue  or  violet  red ; 
amethysts  of  pink,  purple,  and  lilac, — all  spoke  in 
proudest  tones  of  the  wealth  of  Mouteluma;  and, 


A   MILLION  OF  TREASURE.  219 

with  a  weary  sigh,  Clifford  thought  of  the  wide 
social  gulf  which  now  yawned  between  himself  and 
the  heiress  of  all  this  splendor. 

After  securing  all  the  treasure  in  the  chest,  and 
locking  the  door  securely  behind,  young  Warlow 
rode  stealthily  homeward  as  the  first  blush  of  crim 
son  was  mantling  the  eastern  sky,  and  the  great 
planets  were  growing  pale. 


220       THE  COUBSE  OF  TRUE  LOVE. 


Chapter  XVIII. 

IN  the  cool  of  the  following  evening  we  find 
Cliiford  swinging  dreamily  in  a  hammock  on  the 
porch,  while  near  by  is  ever-busy  Maud,  preparing 
a  basket  of  martynias  for  the  pickle-jar.  As  she 
deftly  snipped  off  the  curling  ends  of  the  green 
pods,  locally  known  as  "  Devil  Claws " — a  very 
appropriate  name  indeed,  when  applied  to  the  ma 
ture  fruit — she  cast  a  glance  of  suspicion  toward 
her  brother,  and  said : — 

"  I  never  like  to  see  you  so  quiet,  Clifford.  I 
have  always  noticed  that  silent  people  need  watch 
ing.  Now,  here  is  Rob,  for  instance : — Just  so  long 
as  we  can  hear  him  whistling  or  singing,  we  rest 
contentedly;  but  the  very  moment  he  becomes 
quiet — ah !  look  out !  There  is  mischief  on  hand 
every  time*;  and  we  are  likely  to  miss  pie  from  the 
pantry  soon,  or  find  that  the  rogue  has  filched  a 
bowl  of  cream  down  cellar.  No,  sir;  you  have 
been  so  suspiciously  reticent  to-day  that  I  am  led 
to  think  you  have  learned  something  since  we  had 
our  talk  yesterday." 

"  I  always  endeavor  to  store  up  some  treasure  of 
wisdom  daily,  my  sister,"  Clifford  replied,  with  lazy 
evasion,  as  he  swung  a  polished  boot  to  and  fro 
over  the  hammock's  side,  and  turned  a  feverish 
face  toward  Maud.  Then,  while  a  look  of  sarcasm 
gleamed  in  his  half-closed  eyes,  he  added,  as  she 


THE   COURSE  OF  TRUE   LOVE.  221 

continued  to  glance  askance:  "Who  was  the  phi 
losopher,  sage,  or  poet  that  said — or  should  have 
said,  at  least — something  about  the  moral  obloquy 
of  groping  through  life  with  a  cross  eye?" 

"  Whoever  that  fellow  was  who  strangled  on 
such  a  proverb,  I  '11  bet  my  boots  he  never  clanked 
round  of  nights,  like  a  loose  horse,  all  the  while 
fancying  himself  sly,"  said  Rob,  with  a  knowing 
chuckle,  as  he  cocked  his  head  on  one  side  to  view 
the  horse-hair  bridle-rein  which  he  was  braiding 
while  seated  on  the  edge  of  the  porch. 

A  loud-mouthed  clamor  from  the  dogs  precluded 
an  answer  to  this  thrust,  and  as  the  group  on  the 
porch  looked  toward  the  gate,  Grace,  Ralph,  and 
Scott  Moreland  came  into  the  yard,  and  they  were 
all  soon  eagerly  discussing  the  plan  of  holding  a 
picnic  in  the  Warlow  pasture,  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river  from  the  colonel's  dwelling. 

Before  their  neighbors  left  it  was  decided  that 
the  event  should  take  place  the  last  of  the  follow 
ing  week;  but  in  the  excitement  of  agreeing  on  a 
programme,  and  the  wordy  debate  as  to  the  pro 
priety  of  including  dancing  in  the  list  of  amuse 
ments,  all  the  leisure  time  of  the  next  two  days  was 
consumed;  so  nothing  more  was  said  regarding  the 
great  discoveries  which  the  week  had  revealed.* 

Verbal  and  written  invitations  were  sown  broad 
cast  throughout  the  colony,  bidding  their  friends  to 
the  picnic;  and  not  many  days  had  elapsed  before 
Clifford  had  ridden  down  to  the  Estill  Ranch  to 
deliver  the  compliment  in  person  to  the  members  of 
that  aristocratic  household. 


222  THE   COURSE   OF  TEUE   LOVE. 

At  the  door  he  met  Hugh,  who  was  as  cordial 
and  genial  as  ever,  and  entered  into  the  scheme  of 
the  picnic  with"  his  customary  zest  of  pleasure, 
sharpened  now,  no  doubt,  with  the  desire  to  meet 
the  fascinating  Grace  once  again. 

The  call  lengthened  out  astonishingly,  as  Clifford 
strolled  back  and  forth  on  the  star-lit  terrace  with 
the  vivacious  heiress  of  Monteluma  and  Estill 
Eanch,  who  promised  to  come  up  with  Hugh  the 
next  day,  to  practice,  with  a  dozen  others,  who  were 
to  meet  at  Moreland's,  and  agree  on  the  music  for 
the  entertainment. 

"  What  a  delightful  evening  this  has  been  !"  said 
Clifford  at  a  very  late  hour,  as  they  walked  down  to 
the  steps,  at  the  base  of  which  his  horse  was  tied. 

"Oh,  charming  indeed!  And  do  n't  you  think 
that  we  are  progressing  well  with  our  "practicing," 
for  here  we  have  had  all  the  elements  of  a  flirta 
tion  without  the  aid  of  either  a  moon  or  a  gate," 
she  said  gaily,  as  he  unfastened  the  chain  at  the 
steps,  which  served  to  bar  the  way  at  the  top  of 
the  stairs,  which  led  down  from  the  terrace. 

A  cool  "  Good  evening,  Miss  Estill/'  was  all  the 
answer  this  sally  elicited  from  young  Warlow,  as 
he  rode  away,  thinking  gloomily  that  the  proud 
heiress  meant  to  show  him,  under  the  cover  of  her 
levity,  that  she  was  only  amusing  herself  or  "  prac 
ticing  "  the  arts  of  "  flirtation "  at  his  expense ; 
and  he  determined  that  when  they  met  again  he 
would  show  her  that  he  understood  the  hint,  and 
would  give  her  no  further  opportunity  to  repulse 
his  advances. 


223 

So,  accordingly,  it  was  with  a  great  deal  of 
hauteur  he  met  Miss  Estill  the  following  afternoon 
at  Morelands' ;  but  either  that  young  lady  was  too 
indifferent  to  notice  his  behavior  or  had  been  grat 
ified  at  the  result  of  her  light  remark,  for  she  was 
as  gay  and  unchanged  as  ever. 

All  of  our  hero's  stern  resolves  dissolved  into 
smiles  and  admiration  while  he  stood  talking  with 
the  charming  young  lady ;  but  when  the  wealthy, 
dissolute  aristocrat,  Major  Stork,  of  Devondale,  came 
up,  and  proceeded  to  monopolize  Miss  Estill,  Clif 
ford  froze  up  completely,  and  became  so  polite  and 
attentive  to  Grace  that  she  at  length  declared  she 
would  box  his  ears  if  he  did  not  quit  persecuting 
her  so ;  which  persecutions  consisted  merely  in 
keeping  Hugh  Estill  away  from  her  side — a  crime 
which  Clifford  told  her,  hotly,  was  worse  than  mur 
der  in  her  eyes. 

"  Cliff  Warlow,  you  are  a  booby  I"  said  Miss 
Grace,  with  astonishing  candor;  "and  you  needn't 
come  round  me  with  any  of  your  second-hand  at 
tentions;  for  I've  got  a  pair  of  eyes  in  my  head, 
and  know  how  to  use  them  too.  The  idea  of  your 
being  jealous  of  that  hawk-billed  old  reprobate. 
Why,  it's  perfectly  absurd,"  she  continued,  casting 
a  glance  of  scorn  toward  the  spot  where  the  stately 
major  and  Miss  Estill  were  talking.  "  Oh,  you 
should  remember,  Cliff,  that  a  girl  who  is  worth 
having  is  not  going  to  fall  into  a  fellow's  mouth 
like  a  ripe  persimmon  whenever  he  shakes  the  tree." 

Then  in  a  tone  of  confidence  she  continued,  with 
a  look  of  wisdom,  which  Clifford  thought,  with  an 


224          THE  CATTLE-KING'S  DAUGHTER. 

ill-concealed  smile,  resembled  that  of  a  prairie- 
owl  :  "  Girls  are  very  apt  to  pretend  a  great  cold 
ness  toward  a  fellow  that  they  want  to  catch;  that 
is,  after  they  see  they  have  made  a  safe  impression 
on  him  ;  and  to  see  such  a  girl  begin  mano3uvring 
around  another  fellow,  one  too  that  you  know  she 
can't  care  a  straw  for,  why,  it  always  shows  plain 
enough  that  it  is  only  to  decoy  fellow  number  one." 

"  There  you  are  now  far  beyond  my  compre 
hension,"  Clifford  interrupted,  with  returning  good 
humor;  and  as  Hugh  Estill  joined  them  he  added: 
"I  will  now  retire  in  favor  of  number  one." 

Emboldened  by  Grace's  homily,  young  Warlow 
sought  Miss  Estill's  side,  and  in  her  vivacious 
friendliness  he  soon  found  the  happiness  that  had 
taken  flight  on  the  appearance  of  the  major;  but 
the  returning  bud  of  confidence,  which  her  smiles 
had  called  forth,  was  nipped  by  a  most  untimely 
frost  in  the  appearance  of  a  new  rival — John  Down- 
els,  of  Diamond  Springs. 

Mr.  Downels  was  a  debonair,  graceful  specimen 
of  the  gilded  youth  of  New  York,  from  whose 
make-up  the  last  remaining  trace  of  effeminacy  had 
been  eliminated  by  a  stern  course  of  ranch-life  in 
the  West.  He  appeared  to  be  an  old  friend  of 
Miss  Estill,  who  presented  him  to  Clifford;  but 
after  a  moment's  civility,  young  Warlow  took  his 
leave  and  retired,  while  the  late  comer  devoted 
himself  to  the  heiress. 

While  pretending  to  discuss  music  with  Mrs. 
Warfield,  Clifford  watched  the  pair  furtively.  He 
began  to  realize  that  now  he  had  just  cause  for 


JEALOUSY.  225 

uneasiness;  for  there  was  an  air  of  culture  and  pol 
ished  ease  about  the  blonde-haired  young  ranchman 
which  made  him  very  attractive,  rind  young  War- 
low  became  so  absorbed  and  miserable  that  he  only 
half  realized  what  he  was  saying. 

"Do  you  think  we  shall  have  time  at  the  pic 
nic  to  sing  all  the  songs  on  the  programme  before 
dinner?"  Mrs.  Warfield  inquired. 

"  Why,  no ;  I  believe  it  would  be  a  better  plan 
to  dish  it  out  by  the  quart  to  the  individual  tables," 
he  replied,  absently ;  then  seeing  a  puzzled  look 
sweep  over  her  face,  he  hastened  to  add :  "  You 
know  it  would  be  more  liable  to  melt  if  it  was  in 
such  small  quantities." 

•  The  situation  flashed  at  once  upon  the  keen- 
eyed  lady,  and  although  flirtation,  jealousy,  music, 
and  ice-cream  was  a  combination  sufficient  to  upset 
the  gravity  of  a  sexton,  yet  she  replied  in  a  tone 
of  perfect  suavity  while  toying  with  her  bracelet  of 
jet  and  gold  : 

"A  very  good  plan  indeed,  Mr.  Warlow." 

When  evening  came,  and  with  its  brooding 
shadows  the  company  dispersed,  our  hero  returned 
home  with  a  heavy  heart.  As  he  pondered  over 
each  word  and  action  of  Miss  Estill,  he  had  to  con 
fess  that  there  was  nothing  in  her  demeanor  towards 
him  but  friendly  courtesy  at  all  times.  The  only 
way  that  he  could  interpret  her  remark  on  the 
terrace,  regarding  their  "flirtation"  and  "prac 
ticing,"  was  that  she  had  seen  his  growing  attach 
ment  for  herself,  and  she  had  in  that  way  shown 
him  that  it  was  only  a  flirtation,  and  that  his  case 

20 


226  JEALOUSY. 

was  hopeless.  "  Yes ;  she  was  too  genuinely  a  lady 
to  encourage  his  suit,  then  discard  him  at  the  last 
moment,"  he  concluded,  despondently. 

A  miserable  day  followed  a  sleepless  night,  and 
Clifford  busied  himself  with  the  farm  duties,  trying 
vainly  to  forget  the  bewitching  voice  that  was  ever 
haunting  him,  and  which,  as  he  drove  the  reaper 
over  the  wild  meadow,  seemed  to  be  singing  above 
the  clang  and  ring  of  the  sickle  the  sweet  refrain, — 

•»"  There  blooms  no  rose  upon  the  plain 
But  costs  the  night  a  thousand  tears," — 

in  the  tones  of  luscious  melody  that  he  never — no, 
never — could  forget. 

As  he  swung  in  the  hammock  again  that  even 
ing,  while  Maud's  guitar  and  the  sweet  strains  of 
"Silver  Threads  "  lulled  him  into  a  drowsy  reve 
rie,  he  remembered  suddenly  the  incident  of  the 
"Moated  Grange"  which,  Mora  laughingly  said, 
had  secured  her  such  "a  round  scolding"  because 
she  had  neglected  her  household  duties  through 
too  much  reading  of  that  affecting  poem.  Why 
should  she  have  felt  such  sympathy  for  the  forlorn 
Mariana,  unless  the  pathetic  cry, 

"  '  He  cometh  not — he  cometh  not,'  she  said," 

had  found  an  echo  in  her  heart  also  ? 

"Yes;  she  was  heart-free,  and  waiting  for 
some  one  to  come  and  fill  its  empty  chambers  with 
the  treasures  of  his  love,"  mentally  concluded  our 
hero  in  a  flash  of  joyful  conviction.  But  again  the 
doubt  and  despondency  prevailed ;  and  in  no  very 
enviable  mood  he  rode  down  to  EstilPs  ranch  alone 


"  YOUR  MUSIC  MAKES  ME  HOME-SICK."        227 

the  next  day,  to  join  the  company  that  were  to  meet 
and  practice  for  the  coming  musical  festival,  which 
now  was  the  all-absorbing  theme  of  the  colony. 

•As  he  rode  slowly  along,  Maud  and  Ralph 
passed  him  in  a  gallop,  flinging  back  some  gay 
badinage — something  about  "  a  laggard  in  love  " — 
which  he  affected  not  to  understand  ;  then,  as  he  saw 
Hugh  and  Grace  cantering  up  the  road  behind,  he 
put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  arrived  at  the  imposing 
mansion  just  in  time  to  see  young  Downels  and  the 
military  Stork  alight  from  the  latter's  carriage,  and, 
in  the  most  amicable  manner  imaginable,  both  seek 
the  young  hostess  and  rain  a  shower  of  compliments 
upon  her  gracious  head. 

While  these  two  devoted  cavaliers,  or  rather 
charioteers — for  they  had  ridden  over  in  the 
barouche  of  Devondale,  a  vehicle  sumptuous  and 
costly — were  engaged  in  a  graceful  skirmish  of  wit 
and  verbiage  with  Miss  Estill,  our  hero,  after 
bowing  coldly,  passed  on  to  the  piano,  where  Mrs. 
Estill  was  chatting  in  a  good-natured  strain  with  a 
group  of  friends. 

"You  are  late,  Mr.  Warlow,  and  we  have  been 
waiting  for  some  one  to  '  break  the  ice '  at  the 
piano,"  she  said,  with  her  pleasing  smile,  as  she 
shook  hands  with  Clifford.  "Let's  see,"  she  con 
tinued,  "  the  quartette,  '  My  Native  Hills/  is  the 
first  on  the  programme.  I  am  very  eager  to  hear 
your  tenor  since  Mrs.  Warfield  said  you  made  her 
home-sick  when  you  sang  it  at  the  Moreland  re 
hearsal,"  concluded  the  hostess,  innocently. 

"  It  would  require  a  large  bump  of  self-esteem 


228  A   DUBIOUS   COMPLIMENT. 

to  construe  that  into  a  compliment,"  thought 
Clifford ;  but  meeting  Mrs.  Warfield's  amused  look, 
he  said,  with  a  smile: — 

"  I  hope  her  longing  for  home  was  not  of  "the 
same  nature  as  that  which  a  hand-organ  inspires, 
Mrs.  Estill." 

"  No,  indeed,  Mr.  Warlow  ;  but  you  will  excuse 
my  faulty  compliment,  and  only  remember  that 
I  *ve  been  totally  isolated  from  society  for  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  and  am  apt  to  say  the  wrong  thing  in 
the  right  place." 

"  There  she  goes  again  !"  the  face  of  Mrs.  War- 
field  seemed  to  say;  but  Clifford  only  answered 
with  polite  gravity  :- — 

"  Thank  you,  Mrs.  Estill.  I  shall  never  forget 
that  you  are  very  kind;  and  if  Mrs.  Warfield 
will  promise  not  to  leave  at  once  we  will  proceed 
with  the  singing,"  he  added,  with  a  twinkle  of 
humor  in  his  blue  eyes. 

"  I  will  promise  to  stay  as  long  as  you  are  sing 
ing  a  tenor  like  an  alpine  horn,"  replied  Mr».  War- 
field,  graciously. 

"  Well !  good-bye,  then  ?"  said  Clifford,  as  he 
joined  the  singers ;  and  soon  his  voice  was  heard, 
clear  and  ringing,  like  the  soft  tones  of  a  church- 
bell  in  some  quiet  mountain  valley — pealing  out 
with  soaring,  crystal  notes,  or  floating  down  the 
wind  with  a  vibrant,  thrilling  sweetness,  that 
caused  even  the  garrulous  major  to  pause  and  say 
at  the  end  : — 

"  Why,  pon  honah,  Miss  Estill,  this  young  War- 
low  is  a  wonderful  singah  ;  indeed  he  quite  reminds 


229 

me  of  Mario,  the  enchanting,  velvet-toned  tennah, 
you  know,  whom  I  often  have  heard  at  the  grand 
opera — aw — in  delightful  Paree.  What  a  pity  that 
he  is — aw — only  a  pooah  homesteadah,  or  was  until 
of  late,  I  heah." 

"  I  am  certain  he  is  an  earnest,  industrious 
gentleman  at  all  times,  Major/'  said  Miss  Estill, 
with  just  enough  reproof  in  her  tone  to  cause  the 
dissolute  aristocrat  to  wince ;  then,  pausing,  only 
to  see  that  her  arrow  had  hit  the  mark,  she  con 
tinued  : — 

"His  father  was  a  wealthy  planter  who  was 
ruined  financially  by  the  war ;  but  we  certainly 
respect  the  energy  that  has  enabled  him  to  repair 
his  fortunes  and  found  such  a  delightful  home,  as 
you  will  find  the  Warlow  homestead  to  be.  His 
example  should  encourage  others  to  a  similar 
course,  instead  of  remaining  in  the  overcrowded 
East  or  South  to  struggle  along,  hopelessly,  amid 
the  scenes  of  their  misfortune." 

"  Ah  !  indeed — a  plantah  before  the  wah  ?  Why, 
really,  that  is  another  mattah,  Miss  Estill.  My 
fathah  was  also  a  plantah ;  but  when  the  wah  began 
he  sold  his  niggahs  and  left  Kentuckah,  but 
finally  returned  and  located  thah  again." 

"  You  appear  so  sad,  Mr.  Downels,  that  I  fear 
you  are  not  enjoying  our  rehearsal,"  said  Mora, 
ignoring  the  transaction  in  "  niggahs,"  and  turning 
with  a  questioning  look  to  young  Downels,  who 
stood  by  her  side  yet,  but  seemingly  lost  in  reverie 
since  the  music  had  ceased. 

"  Pardon  the  ungallantry,  Miss  Estill ;  but  that 


230        A    WESTEKN   VIEW    OF   CLASSIC   MUSIC. 

song  carried  me  back  to  the  Hudson,  and  I  almost 
fancied  myself  rambling  over  the  hills  and  dales  of 
my  boyhood's  home  once  again."  But  his  sadness 
was  seen  to  melt  into  an  amused  smile  as  Grace 
sang  in  a  rich  brogue  : — 

"  Ould  bachelor's  hall — what  a  quare  luking  place  it  is  ! 

Kape  me  froin  sich  all  the  days  of  me  loife  ; 
Och  !  sure  an'  methinks  what  a  burnin'  disgrace  it  is, 

Niver  at  all  to  be  takin  a  woife. 
Pots,  dishes,  and  pans,  and  sich  greasy  commodities — 

Ashes  and  tater-skins  kiver  the  floor  ; 
His  cupboard  'a  a  store-house  of  comical  oddities— 

Things  that  were  niver  heard  tell  of  before  !" 

Several  glees  followed ;  then  Miss  Estill  took 
her  place  at  the  rich-toned  piano,  which  was  banked 
in  a  bed  of  wild-flowers,  where  the  flame-colored 
blossoms  of  the  desert-sage  and  the  golden  sun 
flowers  were  relieved  by  sprays  of  snow-powdered 
lace-plant  and  rose-colored  convolvuli,  mingled 
with  tufts  of  white  and  purple  mignonette,  which 
grew  in  fragrant  profusion  over  all  the  surround 
ing  hills.  As  the  grand  strains  of  Schubert's  "  Ser 
enade  "  floated  out  through  the  open  windows,  or 
reverberated  along  the  arched  and  frescoed  ceiling 
of  the  elegant  apartment,  the  listeners  preserved  an 
appreciative  silence, — all  the  more  flattering  when 
we  remember  that  not  a  baker's  dozen  of  the  audi 
ence  understood  a  word  of  German. 

"  It  was  all  very  fine  and  grand,  no  doubt,  but 
still  perfect  Greek,  or  Dutch — which  is  about  the 
same — to  my  poor,  untutored  ears,"  said  Grace  at 
the  close  of  the  celebrated  song,  as  she  turned  to 
Rob  and  spoke  in  an  undertone. 


A   WESTERN   VIEW   OF  CLASSIC  MUSIC.         231 

"Well,  it  was  not  all  quite  plain,"  returned  that 
youth,  with  a  droll  grimace ;  "  but  it  was  certainly 
p-r-r-r-r-rrretty."  Then,  as  Grace  strangled 'and 
recovered  from  an  effort  at  swallowing  her  own 
chin,  he  added  facetiously :  "  Did  n't  you  recognize 
the  place  where  the  old  fellow  shuffled  out  in  his 
wooden  shoes,  and,  after  threatening  the  serenader 
with  '  a  schlock  on  the  coop/  finally  turned  the 
bull-dog  loose?" 

"  No,  I  just  did  nothing  of  the  kind  ;  and  I  do  n't 
believe  you  understood  one  word  of  that  heathen  gib 
berish  either,"  said  Grace,  with  a  sniff  of  suspicion. 

"  Oh,  that  only  shows  you  can't  interpret  oper 
atic  music,"  Rob  replied,  with  a  derisive  grin. 

"  Rob  Warlow,  you  horrible  creature !  I  never 
know  when  you  are  in  earnest,"  she  retorted,  with 
a  puzzled  look,  as  she  smoothed  down  the  fluffy 
ruffles  of  her  white  muslin  gown. 

"  Why,  no — honest  injun! — any  one  can  learn 
to  understand  this  classic  music.  It  only  requires  a 
sufficient  stretch  of  imagination,  and  then  all  is 
clear  as — mud.  Now,  when  Maud  is  playing  Men 
delssohn's  '  Wedding  March/  I  can  hear  the  cat 
squall  like  a  panther  when  the  baby  pulls  its  tail; 
and  she — that  is  Mrs.  'Sohn — takes  an  awful  tan 
trum  when  'Sohn  wants  her  to  get  up  of  a  cold 
morning  and  make  a  fire ;  and  the  way  they  shout 
and  gabble — all  in  Dutch — would  scare  a  krout- 
barrel,"  said  Rob,  with  perfect  gravity. 

"Oh,  humbug!"  she  replied  with  a  shrug,  as 
she  flounced  away  to  where  Maud  stood  examining 
a  book  of  engravings. 


232  A   COUPLE   OF   IDIOTS. 

"Cliff  and  Mora  are  acting  like  a  couple  of 
idiots,  Maud,"  whispered  Grace,  as  she  surveyed  the 
elegant  and  finished  picture,  "The  Carnival  in 
Venice,"  with  a  critical  glance  that  reminded  one 
of  a  wren ;  but  as  Maud  failed  to  reply  to  this 
personal  comment,  she  continued  in  an  undaunted 
undertone : — 

"I  don't  pretend  to  understand  flirtations,  but 
if  I  did,  I 'd  say  that  Mora  Estill  was  a  pronounced 
coquette.  She  bears  all  the  ear-marks  of  a  born 
flirt,  and  the  way  she  throws  herself  at  the  head 
of  young  Downels — the  sophisticated  creature  ! — is 
just  shameful.  But  still  my  fingers  itch  none  the 
less  to  pull  Cliff's  ears ;  for  there  he  goes,  with  his 
lip  hanging  so  low  you  could  step  on  it — and  all  on 
her  account,  too." 

"Well,  Grace,  let's  reserve  our  sympathy  and 
censure  for  the  future,"  said  Maud,  in  a  tone 
meant  to  discourage  any  further  discussion  of  the 
subject;  and  as  the  supper-bell  announced  the  un 
fashionable  hour  of  six,  and  the  guests  were  pre 
paring  to  follow  Mrs.  Estill  and  Major  Stork  into 
the  long,  fresco-paneled  dining-room,  Grace  ceased 
her  comments,  and  soon  forgot  all  about  her  friends 
while  leaning  on  the  arm  of  Hugh  Estill  and  hurry 
ing  into  the  damask-draped  and  luxury-laden  table. 

However,  she  noticed  that  Clifford  and  Mrs. 
"Warfield  sat  next  to  Mora  and  young  Downels 
when  they  were,  at  length,  all  seated,  and  that  while 
the  latter  couple  were  silent,  the  former  kept  up  a 
semi-animated,  constrained  run  of  small  talk  during 
the  meal ;  but  she  soon  became  so  engrossed  while 


A    LOVER   WHOSE   LIP   HANGS   LOW.  233 

listening  to  Hugh's  not  over-brilliant  wit  that  all 
else  was  devoid  of  interest. 

When  the  many  luxuries  had  been  discussed,  and 
the  guests  were  loitering  in  the  parlor  or  sauntering 
out  upon  the  terrace  in  groups  of  twos  and — well, 
twos  also,  I  believe — Clifford  walked  out  alone  to  the 
fountain,  and  sat  down  on  a  stone  seat  near  the  basin, 
which  was  brimming  with  water.  Here  the  broad- 
leaved  lilies  floated,  with  their  blossoms  of  pale 
rose  and  cream,  distilling  an  odor  of  entrancing 
sweetness  for  yards  around  the  cool,  moss-set  brim. 
As  he  sat  lost  in  bitter  meditations,  the  twilight  be 
gan  to  deepen,  the  cicadas  tuned  their  shrill  pipes, 
and  Venus  shone  out  with  unclouded  splendor  over 
the  tree-tops  of  the  valley  below,  followed,  as  she 
has  ever  been,  by  an  ardent  host  of  glittering  stars 
and  planets.  That  great  midsummer  constellation, 
the  Scorpion,  seemed  stinging  the  "milky  way" 
with  its  venomous  tail,  while  the  jeweled  Sickle 
sank  in  the  west — an  omen  that  the  harvest-days 
were  nearly  ended.  A  shrill  katydid,  overhead  in 
the  branches,  heralded  the  coming  frost,  while  a  low 
ripple  of  voices  mingled  with  the  faint  notes  of  the 
piano  and  snatches  of  song  from  within  the  house. 

As  Clifford  sat,  trailing  a  lily  through  the  water, 
thinking,  alas !  of  the  time  when  he  had  strolled 
here  with  Mora,  only  two  short  weeks  before,  and 
how  trustfully  she  had  told  him  of  "  the  mystery 
that  seemed  haunting  the  very  air  of  late,"  he  found 
it  hard  to  realize  that  another  had  supplanted  him, 
and  that  henceforth  they  were  to  be  as  strangers. 
But  slowly  it  began  to  dawn  upon  him  that  their 


234         A   CONTEMPTIBLE   FORTUNE   HUNTER. 

paths  had  diverged  since  that  fatal  night  upon  the 
starlit  terrace,  when  she  so  lightly  remarked  upon 
their  "practicing"  and  "flirtation,"  until  now  he 
felt  they  were  rapidly  and  surely  becoming  totally 
estranged. 

"  It  is  better  that  I  should  never,  never  look 
upon  her  fair,  proud  face  again ;  for  when  I  meet 
her  eyes — ah  !  'what  can  it  mean  ? — there  seems  such 
a  look  of  pleading,  mingled  with  pride  and — some 
thing  that  I  can  never  understand — that  it  totally 
unmans  me,  and  I  can  not  trust  my  lips  to  speak 
a  word  for  fear  of  betraying  the  secret  of  my  love. 
No ;  she  will  find  that  the  Warlow  pride  will  be  a 
match  for  her  own ;  for  I  would  rather  tear  my 
heart  out  and  fling  it  at  her  feet,  than  have  her 
spurn  my  love,  as  only  a  proud  creature  like 
her  can. 

"  To  know  that  she  looks  upon  me  as  a  fortune 
hunter,  and  scans  me  with  those  haughty  —  oh, 
lovely  —  violet  eyes,  classing  me  as  'poor  and 
proud/  but  far  beneath  her  caste, — oh,  Heaven ! 
it  is  more  than"  I  .can  or  will  bear  I"  mentally  ex 
claimed  fiery  young  Warlow  with  a  flash  of  hot 
wrath, — which  is  about  the  best  remedy  known  for 
a  sore  heart,  I  really  believe. 

"A  fortune  hunter?  Well,  can't  a  fellow  who 
has  yearned  all  his  life  to  meet  a  high-bred,  dainty, 
and  elegant  woman,  dare  to  love  her  when  he  does 
meet  such  an  ideal,  for  fear  of  being  called  by  that 
contemptible  name?"  continued  our  hero,  impa 
tiently  plucking  another  water-lily,  and  beginning 


A  CONTEMPTIBLE  FORTUNE  HUNTER.         235 

to  pace  up  and  down  the  path  in  nervous  haste,  and 
resuming  his  meditations,  saying,  half  audibly  :  — 

"  If  she  had  only  waited  a  few  more  days  I 
could  have  shown  her  that  Colonel  Warlow's  son 
was  not  the  poor  homesteader — that  pariah  of  the 
cattle-king — which  she  seems  to  consider  me  in  her 
high  pride.  But  no ;  she  must  throw  cold  water  on 
a  poor  devil  before  he  has  made  too  big  a  fool  of 
himself  to  offend  her  pride  by  a  declaration,  of 
his  folly. 

"  But  she  has  all  the  refined  instincts  of  her 
class  at  any  rate,  and  can  send  a  disheartened,  de 
spairing  wretch  like  me  on  a  life-long  journey  of 
dreary  longing,  with  a  sweet  graciousness  that  I 
must  admire,  though  I  curse  it  ever  so  bitterly !" 
Then,  as  there  rose  vividly  to  his  mind  a  picture 
of  that  proud  but  vivacious  face,  lit  by  eyes  of  violet- 
blue,  and  framed  by  the  mass  of  raven,  wavy  hair ; 
the  coral,  tender  lips  and  creamy,  dimpled  cheeks 
so  soft  and  tinted ;  the  graceful  form,  in  its  filmy, 
flower-wrought  robe  of  white, — he  leaned  against 
the  elm-tree,  and  covered  his  face  with  his  hands 
as  though  to  shut  the  lovely  vision  from  his  sight, 
and  murmured  in  tones  of  deepest  agony  :  — 

"  Oh,  Mora,  Mora,  my  lost  love  !  how  can  I 
give  you  up?"  It  seems  as  if  I  have  loved  you 
from  eternity;  and  to  lose  you  now  is  like  the 
pangs  of  death !" 

Rousing  himself  as  the  sound  of  retreating 
wheels  was  heard  below  the  terrace,  Clifford  walked 
back  to  the  hall-way,  where  he  met  several  depart- 


236  SICK   OF   THE   WORLD. 

ing  guests ;  and  as  he  came  into  the  hall,  with  a 
slow  leaden  step,  he  saw,  with  a  start,  that  Miss 
Estill  was  standing  alone  by  the  stairs,  where  she 
had  turned  after  bidding  some  of  the  guests  good 
night!  When  she  saw  his  face,  with  its  look  of 
white,  tense  misery,  she  said  quickly  :  — 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Warlow  !  I  have  missed  you  for  an 
hour.  You  are  ill,  I  fear." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Estill,  I  am — sick  of  the  world ;  but 
it  is  a  very  slight  matter — only  a  broken  heart," 
young  Warlow  replied,  in  a  low,  husky  tone,  while 
his  eyes  flashed  like  purple  amethysts. 

She  turned  deadly  white,  and  gave  him  a  look 
wherein  he  read  a  proud  pity,  that  sent  a  flash  of 
hot  indignation  to  his  face ;  then  he  bowed  and 
walked  away  without  glancing  back. 

As  he  came  into  the  glare  of  the  lighted  parlor, 
Maud  met  him,  and,  after  giving  him  a  glance  of 
deep  sympathy,  she  said  with  her  accustomed  tact :  — 

"  Clifford,  you  are  no  better,  I  fear ;  so  let 's  re 
turn  home.  Most  of  the  guests  are  starting  already, 
although  it  is  only  nine ;  but  we  have,  like  them, 
also  a  long  drive  before  us  to-night." 

So,  bidding  their  hostess  good-night,  the  War- 
low  and  Moreland  party  started  toward  the  hall; 
but  at  the  door  Miss  Estill  met  them,  looking  pale 
and  distrait,  though  regretful  at  their  early  departure. 

She  tarried  a  moment  at  the  door,  talking  to 
Maud  and  Grace  regarding  the  details  of  the  picnic ; 
and  as  she  stood  under  the  full  light  of  a  large  lamp, 
held  by  a  marble  statue  of  Mercury,  the  wonderful 
grace  and  beauty  of  her  Creole  face  came  into  daz- 


LOVE'S  AGONY.  237 

zling  relief,  and  Clifford  paused  with  a  look  of 
hungry  longing  on  his  face,  while  the  remainder  of 
the  group  hurried  on  to  where  the  carriage  waited, 
leaving  him  alone  with  Mora. 

u  I  will  say  farewell  here,  Miss  Estill.  We  shall 
meet  at  the  picnic,  Friday,  but  there  will  be  little 
chance  to  bid  you  adieu  there.  I  start  for  South 
America  the  next  morning  to  stay  indefinitely ;  so 
good-bye — forever  I" 

Even  now  in  this  trying  moment,  while  his  heart 
turned  cold  with  an  agony  that  not  even  death  could 
equal,  Clifford  was  true  to  the  instincts  of  a  gentle 
man,  and  waited  immovably  for  her  to  offer  her 
hand  ;  but  she  only  stood  and  toyed  with  her  dainty 
fan,  saying  with  the  same  cold,  proud  look  that  she 
had  given  him  once  before  that  evening :  — 

"  This  is  very  sudden.  Indeed  you  can  not  be 
in  earnest;  so  I  shall  reserve  my  adieus  until  the 
very  last.  I  will  try  at  the  picnic  to  persuade  you 
to  abandon  such  an  unkind  course,  and  remain 
with  us." 

"  Very  well,  Miss  Estill,  but  I  had  forgotten  to 
tell  you  that  I  have  a  disclosure  to  make  at  the  pic 
nic — one  of  grave  import  to  you — and  beg  for  an 
hour  of  your  time  while  there.  I  would  prefer  the 
morning,  if  you  please. 

"  With  pleasure,  certainly,"  she  replied ;  but 
their  talk  was  interrupted  by  some  guests  preparing 
to  depart;  so  young  Warlow  hurriedly  said  good 
night,  and  joined  Maud  and  the  others  in  the 
carriage. 

Soon  they  were  rapidly  whirling  homeward  up 


238  HOMEWAED   BY  STAKLIGHT. 

the  level,  winding  road;  but  as  no  one  seemed  to 
be  in  a  talking  mood,  the  journey  was  rather  a  si 
lent  one,  the  monotony  only  relieved  by  a  scurrying 
flock  of  wild-grouse  or  the  dim  and  retreating  form 
of  a  startled  jack-rabbit,  looming  large  and  indis 
tinct  upon  the  level  prairie.  In  places  the  tall 
blue-stem  moved  in  the  wind  with  a  rolling,  wave- 
like  motion;  then  again  giving  place  to  vistas  of 
open  glades,  carpeted  by  the  buffalo-grass,  that  the 
rains  and  sun  had  bleached  almost  white. 

A  forecast  of  autumn  was  felt  in  the  rising  gales, 
which  moaned  through  the  tall  cottonwoods  along 
the  stream ;  the  water  flashed  cold  and  bright  under 
the  starlight,  and  the  buffalo-birds — our  Western 
whip-poor-will — swooped  down  with  a  bellowing 
roar  close  to  the  heads  of  our  friends  as  they  drove 
by,  indicating  that  a  rain  was  near  at  hand. 


GENERAL  GLOOM.  239 


Chapter  XIX. 

A.   STRANGE  THEORY. 

11 0 VR  BODIES  MA  Y  BE  TENANTED  BY  SO UL8  THA  T  HA  VE 
LIVED  BEFORE." 

A  POURING  rain  from  a  vaporrladen  sky,  dull 
and  gray,  saluted  Clifford  the  next  morning  with 
a  chill  welcome ;  but  still  the  general  gloom  that 
pervaded  all  nature  was  in  such  perfect  harmony 
with  his  mood  that  he  felt  a  grim  satisfaction,  in  a 
cold,  lethargic  way,  at  the  sympathy  of  the  elements. 
"  I  am  growing  tired  of  this  monotonous  life/' 
he  said  at  breakfast,  "  and  have  decided  to  com 
mute  my  homestead  and  knock  around  in  the  world 
awhile  ;  so  if  Mr.  Moreland,  Ralph,  and  you,  father, 
are  willing  to  go  to  Abilene  as  my  witnesses,  we 
will  start  Saturday  morning.  I  can  take  the  train 
from  there,  and  save  another  trip;"  then  seeing 
Maud's  and  his  mother's  look  of  distress,  he  added  : 
"  I  may  not  be  gone  long,  so  I'll  leave  every  thing 
as  it  is  untill  my  return." 

"  Why,  Clifford,  my  boy,  what  has  come  over 
you  ?  This  is  wholly  unlike  your  nature.  I  had 
always  felt  so  glad  that  you  were  not  of  a  roving 
disposition,  and  now  you  fly  off  at  a  tangent,  and 
when  we  were  not  looking  for  any  thing  of  the 
kind  either.  It  is  very  strange,  indeed  !" 

Clifford  made  no  reply,  but  rose  from  the  table, 


240  GENERAL   GLOOM. 

followed  by  Rob,  whose  face  was  momentarily 
growing  longer  and  more  doleful  in  its  expression, 
while  Maud  shot  a  warning  look  at  her  parents, 
and  as  the  boy's  retreating  footsteps  giv\v  fainter, 
she  answered  their  questioning  looks  by  saying: — 

"  Poor  Clifford !  he  is  passing  through  that 
course  of  true  love  which  is  said  to  never  run 
smooth,  and  it  is  best  not  to  interfere ;  but  I  hope 
at  the  picnic  to  see  him  on  better  terms  with  Mora, 
which  may  change  his  plans  at  once." 

"  Only  a  lovers'  quarrel  ?"  said  Mrs.  Warlow, 
with  a  troubled  smile. 

"No;  I  fear  it  is  not  so  tangible  as  that," 
Maud  replied.  "  Clifford  seems  to  have  caught 
the  impression,  some  way,  that  Mora  regards  him 
as  a  mere  fortune  hunter,  or  looks  down  on  him  for 
his  poverty ;  you  know  that  she  will  be  equal  heir 
with  Hugh  in  the  immense  Estill  estate,  which  is 
said  to  be  worth  half  a  million,  she  being  their  only 
other  child,"  she  added,  while  narrowly  watching 
her  parents'  faces;  but  to  her  wonder,  her  father 
and.  mother  betrayed  no  surprise  at  this  last  re 
mark,  which  caused  a  doubt  to  enter  her  mind  that 
they  were  aware  of  the  great  discovery  that  Mora 
was  the  daughter  of  Bruce  and  Ivarene,  which  she 
had  until  this  moment  believed  was  a  fact  revealed 
to  them  when  the  Estills  made  their  visit,  more 
than  a  week  before. 

"  Can  it  be  that  they  are  still  ignorant  of  that 
fact?"  Maud  mentally  asked  herself;  and  then  she 
began  to  wonder  why  the  Estills  had  shown  the 
locket,  with  its  pictures  of  Bruce  and  his  wife,  and 


THE   STING   OF   POVERTY.  241 

withheld  from  her  parents  the  more  important  secret 
that  Mora  was  also  the  daughter  of  those  ill-fated 
friends;  but  her  reflections  were  cut  short  by  her 
father  saying,  with  a  weary  sigh  : — 

"  Ah  !  this  is  the  sting  of  poverty  indeed  !  Oh, 
why  should  I  have  been  so  ill-fated  as  to  lose  two 
fortunes  in  succession  ?" 

"  George,  do  not  grieve  over  the  past;  that's  be 
yond  recall,"  Mrs.  Warlow  said  gently  ;  then  she 
added :  "  It  is  better  that  my  children  should  con 
fine  themselves  to  their  own  sphere ;  for  you  can 
see  that  if  Miss  Estill  loved  my  boy,  as  well  she 
might,  for  himself  alone,  she  would  never  think  of 
the  difference  in  their  wealth.  It  may  save  them  a 
life-time  of  misery ;  for  without  mutual  love,  matri 
mony  would  be  a  state  of  abject  servitude." 

"  Well,  if  Clifford  sees  fit  to  take  a  change  of 
scene,  it  will  serve  to  cure  him  of  his — attachment; 
and  if  Mora,  in  the  meantime,  discovers  her  mistake 
in  undervaluing  Clifford — a  fellow  that  any  girl 
under  the  sun  might  be  proud  of — why,  it  may  all 
come  out  right  yet,"  said  Maud  as  she  rose  from 
the  table  and  began  to  polish  and  clean  the  great 
silver  coffee-urn,  another  relic  of  old  plantation 
glory*  but  which  had  never  been  considered  too 
good  for  every-day  service. 

All  day  Clifford  worked  with  a  fever  of  energy 
to  prepare  for  his  journey,  which  he  was  compelled 
to  do  ;  for  the  picnic  was  set  for  the  coming  day, 
Friday,  and  he  had  to  see  the  Morelands  to  secure 
their  attendance  with  him  at  the  land-office  as  wit 
nesses  to  prove  his  actual  residence  and  cultivation 

21 


242  LOVE   AND    DESPONDENCY. 

upon  his  homestead,  which  he  had  concluded  to 
commute,  or  in  other  words,  pay  the  sum  of  two 
hundred  dollars  to  the  government  in  lieu  of  five 
years  of  residence  and  cultivation  thereon.  Hav 
ing  secured  their  testimony,  or  their  willing  prom 
ise  to  accompany  him  to  Abilene  and  there  testify 
to  his  good  faith,  etc.,  he  made  everything  ready 
for  his  departure  the  next  morning  after  the  picnic. 

When  Maud  and  his  mother  questioned  him 
regarding  the  destination  and  duration  of  his  trip, 
he  said  he  would  go  South  awhile,  but  evaded  tell 
ing  them  that  he  had  determined  to  go  to  Buenos 
Ayres  and  remain  until  he  had  made  a  fortune  that 
would  cause  Miss  Estill  to  regard  him  as  an  equal. 

He  noticed  the  sadness,  however,  of  the  family, 
and  when  he  met  Rob's  look  of  grief  his  fortitude 
was  sorely  tried,  and  he  regretted  having  formed 
such  a  hasty  resolution.  But  it  was  too  late  now  to 
retreat,  he  foolishly  concluded;  so,  choking  down  a 
lump  in  his  throat,  he  walked  out  to  take  a  last 
view  of  his  farm.  As  he  sauntered  along  in  a  list 
less  way,  looking  at  the  fields,  every  furrow  of 
which  he  had  turned  over  in  the  past  with  such  a 
deep  pride  of  ownership ;  at  the  trees  and  deep 
pools,  that  greeted  him  with  the  air  of  old  friend 
ship,  he  began  to  realize  how  dear  the  place  had 
become,  and  he  wondered,  in  a  self-pitying  way,  how 
he  could  bear  the  existence  that  awaited  him  out 
on  the  sky-begirt  level  and  lonely  pampas  of  the 
Kio  La  Plata. 

When  he  came  to  the  gothic  dwelling,  the  circle 
of  roses  and  trellises  of  luxuriant  vines,  the  slop- 


LOVE   AND    DESPONDENCY.  243 

ing  orchard  and  vineyard,  they  all  seemed  to  be 
still  imbued  with  the  strange  thought  which  had 
ever  haunted  him  while  he  was  busied  there. 
"  Here  for  the  first  time  since  eternity  began,  I 
found  a  true  home.  All  this  is  mine,  and  on  this 
spot  I  shall  pass  my  life.  What  events  will  trans 
pire  here  in  the  unknown  future !  I  shall  know 
joy  and  sorrow  here,  but  who  will  share  it  all  with 
me  ?"  As  these  visions  recurred,  he  thought  bit 
terly  that  he  never  had  counted  upon  an  hour  of 
trial  like  the  present.  Then,  throwing  himself 
down  in  the  shade  of  the  old  wall,  he  cried  aloud  in 
anguish,  as  he  buried  his  face  in  the  soft,  matted 
buffalo-grass  :  "  Oh,  it  is  hard  to  part  from  all  this — 
and  only  for  a  woman  who  cares  nothing  for  me !" 
But  at  length  he  became  calmer,  and  as  a  feeling  of 
resentment  towards  the  proud  heiress  began  to  possess 
him,  he  arose  and  went  into  the  house :  then,  after 
taking  the  usual  precautions  against  surprise,  he 
raised  the  trap-door  and  unlocked  the  treasure-chest. 

On  glancing  at  the  heap  of  red  gold  mingled 
with  the  dazzling  gems,  he  took  from  the  compart 
ment  the  paper  which  he  had  almost  forgotten  hav 
ing  never  read;  then  breaking  the  seal,  he  found 
that  it  was  the  wills  of  both  Bruce  and  his  wife  on 
separate  sheets  of  vellum,  executed  at  Santa  Fe, 
devising  all  their  estate  each  to  the  other,  in  case 
of  either  dying  during  the  long  journey  on  which 
they  were  about  starting. 

"I  will'  bring  her  here  to-morrow.  She  shall 
read  the  pathetic  Journal  of  Ivarene  and  this  will. 
I  shall  tell  her  of  the  long  search  after  the  treas- 


244  LOVE   AND   DESPONDENCY. 

ure,  and  her  right  to  all  this  wealth;  then,  after 
restoring  both  her  name  and  fortune,  there  will  be 
little  left  for  me  to  do  but  to  slink  away,  while 
some  long-necked  aristocrat  will  step  to  the  fore 
ground  and  carry  off  the  prize,"  soliloquized  our 
hero  with  bitter  sarcasm,  as  he  placed  the  papers 
in  an  inner  pocket  of  his  drab  coat,  and  closed  the 
chest  with  a  vicious  snap. 

The  rain  had  ceased  long  since,  and  a  band  of 
crimson  and  rose  on  the  western  horizon  gave  a 
promise  of  fair  weather  on  the  morrow ;  but  Clif 
ford  lingered  about  the  beloved  place,  feeling  that 
this  was  his  farewell  to  a  spot  that  had  grown  dear 
as  life  to  him  in  the  last  year.  He  found  it  hard 
to  tear  himself  away ;  so  he  seated  himself  upon  a 
travel-worn  ridge  in  the  old  trail,  worn  years  ago 
by  the  wheels  of  the  freight  wagons,  but  now  car 
peted  thickly  with  the  buffalo-grass,  which  seems 
to  delight  in  hiding  just  such  an  unsightly,  tram 
pled  place  with  its  pale-green  tendrils.  As  the 
shadows  darkened  among  the  trees,  and  the  gloom 
of  a  starless,  fog-ladened  night  settled  down  with 
a  palpable  silence,  young  Warlow  became  lost  in 
thought. 

The  scene  which  followed  was  always  a  mystery 
to  him;  for  he  never  knew  whether  he  had  wit 
nessed  a  supernatural  sight  or  not.  He  often  tried 
to  persuade  himself  that  he  had  lapsed  into  a  fit  of 
transient  slumber,  and  the  whole  spectacle  was  only 
a  vivid  dream. 

The  time  passed  by  unheeded,  and  it  was  near 
the  hour  of  ten  when  his  fit  of  abstraction  was 


A  GLIMMERING  CIRCLE  OF  PHANTOM  WARRIORS.    245 

broken  by  seeing  a  group  of  fire-flies  flashing  about 
in  an  unnatural  manner.  He  remembered,  dimly, 
seeing  great  numbers  of  these  luminous  insects  con 
gregating  around  the  long  grave,  not  fifty  paces 
away;  and  his  blood  grew  cold  as  he  saw,  with  a 
thrill  of  horror,  that  the  flashing,  mazy  clouds  be 
gan  to  slowly  resolve  themselves  into  the  semblance 
of  human  forms,  that  leaped  and  danced  in  fiendish 
glee;  now  bounding  high  into  the  murky  air,  or 
again  brandishing  weapons,  that  resembled  war- 
clubs  and  tomahawks,  in  a  threatening  and  heart- 
sickening  manner. 

While  these  mysterious  forms  gyrated  about  in 
their  unearthly  war-dance,  Clifford  stood  petrified 
with  horror  and  astonishment,  not  unmixed  with  a 
strange  curiosity  to  see  how  it  would  terminate; 
and  when  the  luminous  figures  joined  hands,  and 
slowly  paced  about  the  grave,  as  though  to  the 
chant  of  some  wild  and  savage  death-song,  a  dim 
and  glimmering  circle  of  phantom  warriors,  Clifford 
could  bear  it  no  longer,  but  sprang  to  his  feet  with 
a  cry  of  horror,  that  was  echoed  by  a  shriek  which 
he  instantly  recognized  as  being  the  voice  of  Rob. 
As  the  skurrying  hoofs  went  tearing  away,  he 
shouted  quickly:  — 

"  Rob !  Rob !  wait,— it  is  Cliff!  Come  back  like 
a  man,  and  let 's  investigate ;"  but  he  saw  that  at 
the  first  sound  of  their  voices  the  figures  had 
flashed  asunder  like  thistle-down  before  a  breath, 
and  now  were  whirling  and  weaving  in  a  bewil 
dering  maze  of  light  that  melted  away  as  he 
gazed,  and  separated  into  the  innocent  flitting 


246  A   SUPERNATURAL,   VIEW. 

forms  of  fire-flies  that  were  hieing  off  to  the  dark 
nooks  along  the  stream. 

As  Rob  came  back,  riding  slowly  and  in  an 
uncertain  manner,  Clifford  emerged  from  the  gloom 
of  the  trees  into  the  less  ebon  darkness  of  the 
open  ground;  then  Rob  halted  and  said,  in  a 
shaky  voice: — 

"I  thought  that  I  had  run  afoul  of  the  old 
devil  himself  when  you  yelled  so !  What  is  the 
matter,  anyway?" 

Briefly  as  possible  Clifford  told  of  the  strange 
sight  which  he  had  just  witnessed — a  scene  which 
he  then  thought  was  more  like  a  fevered  dream 
than  a  reality. 

"But  how  does  it  happen  you  were  here?" 
he  added. 

"Why,  we  were  uneasy  about  you,  and  I  had 
come  in  search.  I  knew  you  would  be  up  here, 
for  I  saw  you  walking  this  way.  I  had  just  got 
here,  and  was  going  to  call  you,  when  you  yelled 
Ijke  a  catamount  down  by  the  old  grave.  What 
does  it  mean,  Cliff?  It  makes  me  cold  yet!"  he 
added,  with  chattering  teeth. 

"  Well,  it  ?s  something  that  can  not  be  explained 
away,"  said  Clifford,  while  walking  back  beside 
Rob,  who,  too  well  bred  to  ride  while  another 
walked,  had  dismounted,  and  was  leading  his 
horse.  "  There  is  only  one  view  that  I  can  take 
of  it,  and  that  is  a  supernatural  one,"  he  con 
tinued,  as  Rob  linked  his  arm  within  his  own,  and 
they  struck  the  road  homeward.  "  There  is  a  be 
lief  gaining  ground,  Rob,  that  the  spirit — or  the 


POWER   OF   SPIRIT   OVER   MATTER.  247 

life  principle,  animation,  or  whatever  it  may  be 
which  we  call  soul — after  it  is  disembodied  by 
death,  may  yet  linger  about  in  some  subtle,  invis 
ible  form  akin  to  electricity,  and  may  become 
embodied  again  by  entering  into  the  being  of  a 
new-born  child, — which,  if  true,  may  account  for 
the  strange  resemblance  we  often  see  peering  out 
of  the  eyes  and  face  of  an  infant  that  recalls  some 
long-dead  friend  or  ancestor.  It  may  be  that  the 
power  which  mind  wields  over  matter  would  enable 
the  strong,  magnetic  spirits  of  those  savage  war 
riors,  who,  no  doubt,  died  terrible  deaths  of  vio 
lence  on  this  tragedy-haunted  spot,  to  attract  the 
fire-flies,  and  mold  them  into  a  semblance  of  their 
former  bodies,  or,  at  least,  imprison  them  for  a 
time  within  the  spirit  outline  of  their  former 
selves.  This,  alone,  would  enable  them  to  become 
visible  to  our  eyes,  proving  what  we  already  know, 
that  without  matter  of  a  living  nature  the  spirit — 
or  magnetism,  which  we  call  soul — would  be  always 
as  invisible  as  the  air." 

"Why,  Cliff,  you  talk  like  a  heathen!"  replied 
Rob,  vehemently,  who,  though  addicted  to  the  vice 
of  swimming  on  the  Sabbath,  l  hooking '  water 
melons  from  the  Mennonites,  and  hiding  Easter 
eggs,  was  still  strictly  orthodox  to  his  boot-heels. 
"  So  you  think,"  he  continued,  "  that  a  human  soul 
may  take  the  form  of  a  panther  or  a  pauper — which 
ever  the  spirit  most  resembles — and  be  cast  and  re 
cast  over  and  over  again,  like  an  old  piece  of  boiler- 
iron,  until  at  last  it  becomes — well,  just  what,  I  'd 
like  to  know?" 


248  A   MYSTERY   TO   ALL. 

"A  good  Christian  being  that  progresses  towards 
perfection,  and  learns  wisdom  from  his  former  mis 
takes,  I  guess,"  replied  Clifford,  as  they  turned  the 
'horse  into  the  pasture  and  sought  the  house.  As 
they  came  into  the  yard,  he  added :  "  If  there  is 
one  spot  on  the  continent  that  should  be  haunted, 
it  certainly  is  the  old  Stone  Corral  and  the  near-by 
crossing  of  the  Santa  Fe  and  Abilene  Trails;  for 
there  has  been  more  crime  and  cruel  deviltry  com 
mitted  there  than  upon  any  other  square  mile  in 
the  Western  world." 

The  next  morning  broke  with  a  cloudless  sky, 
balmy  and  serene.  A  light  wind  from  the  south 
west  lifted  the  ribbon  of  vapor  along  the  Cotton- 
wood,  and  wafted  the  fresh  and  perfumed  odors 
of  wild  hop- vine  and  water-mint,  desert-sage  and 
sand-plum,  oyer  the  garden  and  into  the  Warlow 
breakfast-room,  where  Clifford  was  narrating  to  his 
horrified  parents  and  sister  the  particulars  of  that 
unreal  and  mystery-wrapped  scene  which  he  had 
witnessed  the  night  before. 

"  It  all  looks  so  unreal  in  this  clear  daylight  that 
I  am  almost  ashamed  to  repeat  it,"  said  Clifford, 
with  a  nervous  laugh ;  but  the  hearers  knew  by  the 
look  of  earnest  gravity  on  his  face  that  there  could 
have  been  no  mistake  or  deception  as  to  his  wit 
nessing  a  sight  that  ever  was  a  mystery  to  all. 

"Well,  this  is  a  strange  story  indeed,"  said  the 
colonel ;  "  but,  my  boy,  you  must  have  been  asleep 
unconsciously,  and  when  you  awoke  your  mind  was 
in  that  abnormal  state  in  which  an  optical  illusion 
would  have  seemed  like  reality.  An  illusion  of 


BOAT-RIDING.  249 

this  nature  is  very  hard  to  combat,  from  its  very 
uncertainty;  and  we  can  only  reason,  from  general 
principles,  that  it  was  a  half-waking  dream." 

The  preparations  for  the  picnic  put  an  end  to 
any  further  discussion,  and  at  ten  the  grounds 
were  enlivened  by  a  throng  of  people,  all  in  their 
happiest  mood  and  best  attire. 

When  the  Estill  carriage  came  on  the  ground, 
Clifford  hurried  forward  and  assisted  Miss  Estill  to 
alight;  then,  after  shaking  hands  with  Mrs.  Estill, 
who  excused  her  husband's  absence  by  saying  that 
he  had  not  returned  from  the  Comanche  Pool, 
whither  he  had  gone  a  week  before,  he  found  a  seat 
for  the  elder  lady,  and  disappeared  with  Mora  on 
the  pretext  of  boat-riding. 

They  walked  in  silence  to  where  his  boat  was 
tied  to  the  trunk  of  a  weeping  elm.  As  Clifford 
helped  her  into  the  seat,  her  warm  clasp  sent  a 
thrill  to  his  heart  that  caused  a  hot  flush  to  mount 
to  his  face;  but  it  soon  receded,  leaving  him  paler 
and  more  care-worn  than  ever.  But  Mora  noticed 
that  his  cravat  of  dainty  lawn  was  tied  with  that 
precision  only  attained  by  a  thorough  man  of  fashion, 
and  the  spray  of  snowy  elder-bloom,  late  but  fra 
grant,  combined  with  a  solitary  pansy-shaped  flower, 
pale  blue  with  a  fleck  of  gold  at  the  heart,  into  a 
boutonniere  that  denoted  a  taste  refined  and  fastid 
ious  in  its  wearer. 

They  shot  out  into  the  narrow  stream  under 
Clifford's  vigorous  strokes,  and  skimmed  lightly 
along  through  the  silver-linked  pools,  shaded  by 
trees  that  were  smothered  by  poison-ivy  and  wild- 

22 


250  THE  WILLS  AND  THE  JOURNAL. 

grape  vines,  that  trailed  in  the  water  with  their 
purple-laden  tendrils  of  ripening  fruit.  At  length 
they  reached  the  bank  near  young  Warlow's  dwell 
ing,  after  a  journey  which  he  thought  had  lasted 
for  an  age,  but  which,  to  be  correct,  was  just  four 
minutes  in  duration.  There  had  been  an  attempt 
on  her  part  at  conversation,  but  seeing  the  far-away 
look  in  his  eyes  and  the  expression  of  haggard  misery 
on  his  white,  handsome  face,  she  became  more  cold 
and  reserved  than  ever,  and  sat  with  averted  face, 
trailing  a  gaudy  cardinal-flower  through  the  water. 

On  landing,  he  again  encountered  her  hand, 
which  did  not  fail  to  send  an  electric  shock  through 
him,  as  he  assisted  her  ashore,  and  for  a  moment  he 
thought  that  she  held  his  hand  longer  than  the  occa 
sion  required,  and  he  raised  his  eyes  to  her  face 
with  a  quick  flash  of  joy;  but  the  downcast  look 
and  pale  cheeks  which  he  saw,  sent  the  blood  back 
to  his  heart  with  a  sickening  chill,  and  they  walked 
together  in  silence  up  toward  his  dwelling. 

When  they  reached  the  house  he  led  the  way  to 
the  spring  and  motioning  her  to  a  seat  under  the 
shade  of  that  giant  elm,  he  drew  the  wills  forth  and 
handed  them  to  her  saying: — 

"Here,  Miss  Estill,  is  what  makes  you  the 
greatest  heiress  in  this  western  land !"  then,  as  she 
silently  read  them  through  and  lifted  a  puzzled  face 
to  his,  he  handed  her  the  Journal  of  Ivarene,  and 
watched  breathlessly,  while  she  became  flushed  and 
pale  by  turns  while  perusing  the  faded  and  time- 
worn  paper. 

"Ah !  poor,  ill-fated  Ivarene !  what  could  have 


THE   FORTUNE   HUNT.  251 

become  of  her  and  that  helpless  infant, — and  brave 
Bruce  too  ?"  she  cried,  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"The  parents  were  murdered,  no  doubt,  by  that 
mad  hunter,  and  the  child  was  stolen  and  left  at 
EstilPs  ranch  along  with  a  locket  containing  the 
name  of  Morelia  and  the  pictures  of  Bruce  and 
Ivarene.  The  mysterious  kinsman  buried  on  the 
hill-top  was  Olin  Estill,  who  was  only  the  mad 
hunter  in  disguise,  who  stole  that  blue-eyed,  dark- 
haired  daughter,  named  Morelia." 

"Ah!  you  believe  me  to  be  the  daughter  of 
Bruce  and  his  lovely  wife !"  said  Mora,  springing 
to  her  feet,  while  tears  rained  from  her  eyes,  and 
her  hands  were  wrung  with  deep  emotion. 

"Yes,  I  am  certain  that  you  are  Morelia  Wai- 
raven.  I  had  suspected  this  from  the  hour  that 
father  called  you  Ivarene,  and  I  set  to  work  ear 
nestly  to  recover  the  lost  fortune,  which  I  believed 
was  buried  near  this  spot.  I  worked  faithfully, 
Miss  Estill,  to  restore  it  all  to  you,  knowing  full 
well,  all  the  while,  that  when  found  it  would  only 
widen  the  gulf  between  me  and  the  cattle-king's 
daughter  an  hundred-fold.  I  will  not  dwell  on  the 
horrors  of  that  fortune  hunt,  nor  its  perils,  when  I 
fought  that  gray-robed  demon,  which  glared  at  you 
upon  the  grave-capped  hill;  how  I  struggled  with 
that  murderous  spectre  in  the  darkness  of  midnight, 
after  being  greeted  in  a  noisome  pit  by  a  gigantic 
rattlesnake,  which  I  slew  as  it  writhed  at  my  feet, 
with  certain  death  in  its  fangs;  nor  the  horror  I 
felt  when  it  was  dead,  at  length,  to  grasp  a  human 
skull,  that  mocked  me  with  eyeless  sockets  and 


252  THE  LOST  TREASURE  REVEALED. 

grinning  teeth  when  I  snatched  it  from  the  buried 
cask — hoping  I  had  found  the  casket  of  gems. 

'rBut  come  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you  that 
the  "Warlow  honor  and  pride  is  no  vain  boast; 
that  the  poor  planter's  son  can  face  danger  and 
death  for  the  sake  of  right  alone." 

Then,  as  she  followed,  pale  and  trembling,  into 
the  room,  he  threw  back  the  lid  of  the  treasure- 
chest,  and  the  red  gold,  the  glorious  rays  from  frosty 
pearls,  sparkling  diamonds,  blood-red  rubies,  and 
strange  green  emeralds  mingled,  in  a  dazzling  glare, 
with  the  sheen  of  fire-opals  and  the  glint  of  ame 
thysts  of  purple,  lilac,  and  rose. 

"  Here,  Morelia  Walraven,  is  your  lost  treasure, 
your  million  of  gems  and  gold,  your  proud  name 
and  ancestral  hall,  which  I  restore,"  as  he  handed 
her  the  deed  of  Monteluma.  "  To-morrow  I  shall 
leave  home  and  country,  friends  dearer  than  life,  to 
prove — to  prove  to  you  I  am  not  that  vile  thing 
which  you  take  me  for — a  Fortune  Hunter !" 

She  merely  glanced  at  the  pile  of  dazzling 
wealth ;  then  raised  her  eyes  that  glittered  through 
her  tears  like  the  turquois  among  the  gold,  and 
while  he  poured  forth  a  torrent  of  hot  words  that 
seemed  to  come  from  his  very  soul,  her  color  came 
and  went  until  a  burning  blush  spread  over  her  face, 
and  in  a  choking  gasp  she  essayed  to  speak.  When 
he  had  ceased,  she  gazed  a  moment  up  into  his  face, 
seamed  and  drawn  in  lines  of  white  agony,  then  she 
cried  out: — 

"  Oh !  what  do  I  care  for  all  this  dross,  whose 
daughter  I  may  be,  or  my  pride  of  ancestry? 


253 

Clifford — oh,  Clifford  ! — you  shall  never  leave  me. 
I  will  die  if  you  do.  I  love  you !  Oh,  will  I  have 
to  say  it? — yes,  I  love  you  better  than  all  the 
world  beside.  No,  no !  you  shall  never  leave  me  !" 
she  said,  with  her  white  arms  about  his  neck  and 
her  soft,  warm  cheek  pressed  close  to  his;  and — 
and — well,  I  just  skipped  out  there,  leaving  them 
alone  with  a  scene  that  was  growing  too  unutterably 
"  rich  for  my  blood,"  to  use  a  Western  phrase ;  but 
half  an  hour  later,  as  they  strolled  back  to  the  boat 
I  overheard  him  say  : — 

"  But  why,  my  love,  did  you  look  so  proud  and 
cold  in  the  hall  when  I  came  in  at  your  house  only 
the  other  night?" 

"Proud  and  cold,  indeed,"  she  replied,  with  a 
gay  laugh,  as  she  shot  a  look  of  mingled  love  and 
amazement  into  his  beaming  eyes.  "  Now,  that 
shows  how  well  you  can  read  a  woman's  heart,  sir. 
Dear  Clifford,"  she  added,  tearfully,  "  do  you  know, 
you  dear  blind  boy,  that  at  that  very  time  I  was 
wretched  and  miserable,  and  longed  to  kiss  you  and 
say  that  I  had  waited  for  years  for  just  such  an  ideal 
as  you  are  ?" 

"  It  is  not  too  late  now  for  that !"  he  cried  rap 
turously,  as  they  passed  under  the  boughs  of  a 
drooping  tree,  then  followed  a  sound  so  explosive 
that  I  beat  a  hasty  retreat  from  such  a  danger- 
fraught  vicinity,  and  never  came  near  again  until 
their  boat  touched  shore.  Maud  came  to  them  as 
they  landed,  and  said  : — 

"  Where  have  you  been,  truants?  I  have  missed 
you  for  an  hour." 


254  IN    PARADISE. 

"  In  paradise,"  replied  Clifford,  with  such  a  look 
of  happy  abandon  that  Maud  started  joyfully ;  then 
Mora  said,  with  a  blush,  as  she  clasped  her  arms 
about  the  form  of  delighted  Maud : — 

"Yes,  I  have  coaxed  him  to  stay  forever;  but 
I  had  to  propose  to  the  selfish  being  before  he  would 
promise  at  all." 

Then  Maud,  seeing  the  tears  of  earnestness  that 
began  to  start,  kissed  her  new  sister  and  Clifford 
very  tenderly,  saying,  between  her  smiles  and 
tears : — 

"  Oh,  this  is  happiness  indeed  !"  which  sentiment 
seemed  to  be  fully  shared  by  the  radiant  couple 
whom  she  addressed. 

Maud  was  not  long  in  finding  an  excuse  to  leave 
the  lovers  to  themselves;  and  when  she  had  disap 
peared  among  the  throng,  they  sauntered  on  to  a 
secluded  seat,  under  a  vine-canopied  tree,  where  the 
trailing  bitter-sweet  swept  the  closely-cropped  grass 
with  its  graceful  tendrils,  loaded  with  a  burden  of 
orange  and  pink  berries.  Here,  secure  from  intru 
sion,  they  could  see  the  crowd  of  well-dressed  peo 
ple  loitering  about  in  detached  groups,  but  were  far 
enough  removed  from  them  to  talk  in  that  confi 
dential  strain  peculiar  to  newly-mated  young  people, 
with  no  fear  of  interruption. 

"  When  shall  we  reveal  to  your  parents  the  dis 
coveries  which  I  disclosed  to  you  to-day,  Mora?" 
said  Clifford,  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Let  us  be  in  no  haste,  Clifford,"  she  replied ; 
"  for  father  is  away,  and  mother  would  be  un 
nerved  and  agitated  at  the  revelation.  Then  we 


SENTIMENT   AND   BUSINESS.  255 

will  have  several  guests  to  entertain  for  the  next 
week,  as  Mrs.  Potter  and  Miss  Hanford  will  remain 
with  us  after  the  picnic.  So  I  believe  it  would  be 
best  to  defer  it  for  a  week  or  two." 

"  But  what  shall  be  done  in  the  meantime  with 
the  treasure,  Mora  dear?  There  is  a  million  dollars 
in  gold  and  gems  lying  there  in  that  chest.  I  trem 
ble  to  think  what  the  result  might  be  if  its  existence 
were  suspected  in  such  an  unprotected  spot." 

"  Well,  sir,  you  must  nerve  yourself  to  the  task  of 
not  only  caring  for  it,  but  of  me  also  in  the  future," 
she  replied,  with  a  furtive  caress;  and,  judging  from 
his  looks,  he  appeared  to  be  equal  to  the  latter  re 
sponsibility  at  least. 

"  I  have  made  arrangements  to  start  to  Abilene 
in  the  morning  to  commute  my  homestead  and  se 
cure  a  title  to  it  before  the  great  sale  of  public 
lands  Monday,  which,  it  is  said,  will  be  sold  at  a 
very  low  figure,"  he  replied,  returning  her  caress 
with  compound  interest. 

"  Cliiford,  it  looks  mercenary  and  not  at  all  sen 
timental  for  us  to  talk  of  business  at  such  a  time ; 
but  still  we  can  love  one  another  no  less  for  that. 
The  time  is  very  short  before  that  sale.  It  is  a 
critical  moment.  I  advise  you  to  buy  all  the  land 
that  you  can  Monday ;  it  will  be  very  valuable  soon," 
she  said,  with  that  mingling  of  sentiment  and  busi- 
'ness  peculiar  to  Western  women. 

"  I  shall  invest  what  little  I  possess  in  that  way, 
Mora  ;  it  is  secure  at  least.  I  have  always  longed  to 
own  more  of  the  land  to  the  north  of  the  corral ;  and 
this  is,  as  you  say,  a  golden  opportunity  to  acquire  it." 


256  SENTIMENT   AND   BUSINESS. 

Then  there  was  silence  for  a  moment  as  Clifford 
sadly  thought  how  little  he  really  had  for  in 
vestment  compared  to  the  hoard  that  was  lying 
useless  in  the  chest.  His  father's  gold  was  there 
still,  but  he  had  no  real  claim  upon  it  ("I  must  de 
liver  it  to-night,"  he  mentally  concluded)  ;  and  an 
involuntary  sigh  escaped  him  at  the  thought  that 
strangers  yet  might  control  all  that  rolling,  fertile 
prairie  to  the  north,  which  he  had  vainly  dreamed 
of  owning. 

As  if  divining  his  thoughts,  Mora  quickly  said, 
as  her  hand  sought  his  own  with  a  gentle  clasp: — 

"  Why  not  use  some  of  that  idle  treasure  for 
this  purpose,  Clifford?  If  it  is  mine,  as  it  really 
seems  to  be,  there  will  be  no  harm  in  investing  part 
of  it  in  that  way.  The  emergency  is  great  for  de 
cision  and  swift  action,  so  I  really  believe  you  should 
take  a  large  sum  along  for  that  purpose,  not  less 
than  fifty  thousand  dollars  of  the  recovered  treas 
ure,  at  least." 

"  You  dear,  clear-headed  little  woman !"  he  re 
plied  radiantly ;  "  that  is  a  capital  plan  indeed  ;  so, 
if  you  think  it  best,  I  will  take  that  sum  with  me, 
and  invest  it  in  land  for  your  benefit." 

"  No,  no ;  you  misunderstand  me,  Clifford ;  it  is 
for  your  benefit  that  I  made  the  suggestion.  You 
may  take  it  as  a  loan,  and  repay  me  some  time  in 
the  future,"  she  added,  demurely. 

He  was  on  the  point  of  making  some  laughing 
rejoinder,  when  he  started  at  the  recollection  that  it 
seemed  like  fate  when  he  recalled  the  loan  of  ex 
actly  fifty  thousand  dollars  which  Ivareue  had 


A   WILD    WESTERN    PICNIC.  257 

tendered  his  father,  of  which  Mora  was  in  total 
ignorance.  Then,  in  a  low  tone,  he  told  her  of  the 
strange  coincidence,  where  history  was  repeating 
itself;  but  he  had  not  finished  the  story  when  a 
summons  to  dinner  was  heard,  and  he  accompanied 
Mora  to  the  Estill  carriage,  finishing  the  recital  as 
they  walked  slowly  thither. 

There  were  several  guests  clustered  about  the 
carriage,  and  Clifford  accepted  an  invitation  to  re 
main  for  dinner,  which  Mrs.  Estill  gave  him,  and 
with  Mora  and  young  Downels,  Miss  Hanford  and 
Mrs.  Potter,  Clifford  was  soon  busy  helping  to 
spread  the  dinner  on  the  snowy  cloth  beneath  the 
shade  of  a  dense-foliaged  elm.  When  the  hampers 
were  unpacked  and  they  were  all  seated  upon  the 
grass  about  the  cloth,  it  was  evident  that  the  Estills 
could  not  be  taxed  with  the  sin  of  inhospitality,  for 
they  had  brought  enough  in  their  hampers  for  an 
extra  dozen  guests. 

There  was  boned  turkey,  hinting  of  sweet  mar 
joram,  garnished  with  quivering  moulds  of  cherry- 
jelly  ;  chicken  salad,  with  sprays  of  parsley ;  tank 
ards  of  silver  and  glass,  filled  with  creamy  milk  ; 
tall  glasses  of  jelly — pink,  amber,  and  crimson  ; 
pyramids  of  cake,  bronzed  and  frosty,  that  con 
veyed  a  faint  suspicion  they  were  only  meant  for 
show ;  great  baskets  of  silver,  marvels  of  frostwork 
on  flower  and  vine,  piled  high  with  purple  grapes, 
peaches  of  white  and  crimson,  and  golden  oranges, — 
all  of  which,  alas  !  were  the  contribution  of  far-off 
California. 

Young    Downels   sat   near    Mora,   who  was   as 


258  A   WILD   WESTERN   PICNIC. 

fascinating  and  gracious  as  ever;  but  Clifford  felt 
a  contentment  and  trust  too  deep  for  jealousy,  and 
was  gay  and  witty  to  such  a  degree  that  Downels 
began  to  have  a  suspicion  of  the  true  situation, 
which  was  in  no  wise  allayed  when  he  saw  their 
eyes  meet  in  a  quick  flash  of  love  and  admiration ; 
so  he  speedily  transferred  his  attentions  to  Miss 
Hanford,  who  seemed  not  at  all  averse  to  receiving 
them  "ad  infinitum." 

An  afternoon  of  unalloyed  bliss  followed,  and 
when  our  hero  placed  Mora  in  the  carriage,  he 
had  given  her  a  promise  to  ride  down  on  his 
return  from  Abilene,  the  following  week ;  then,  as 
the  stately  barouche  rolled  away,  he  hurried  home 
ward  to  complete  his  preparations  for  to-morrow's 
journey. 

At  the  supper-table,  which  was  spread  at  a  later 
hour  than  usual,  Colonel  Warlow  looked  grave  and 
care-worn,  while  his  wife  was  sad  and  thoughtful, 
remembering  that  Clifford  was  to  leave  them,  per 
haps  forever,  and  this  was  his  last  night  under  the 
home-roof,  a  delusion  which  he  was  soon  to  dis 
pel.  Maud's  face  wore  a  look  of  cheerfulness 
which  puzzled  her  parents,  who  had  not  witnessed 
their  son's  manuevres  during  the  day ;  and  Rob's 
eyes  fairly  danced  with  suppressed  excitement. 


"MY  LONG  LOST  GOLD  DOUBLOONS."    259 


Chapter  X  X. 

'( TV  yf  Y  boy,  it  is  a  sad  day  for  us  all  when  you  leave 
1VJL  the  home  nest.  We  shall  miss  you  more  than 
I  can  express,"  said  the  colonel  at  length.  "  Ah ! 
I  had  hoped  to  see  you  settled  near  us  in  our  old 
age  in  this  grand  country.  Clifford,  I  have  seen  a 
great  many  regions  on  this  continent  famous  for 
their  beauty  and  fertility,  but  this  is  the  only  place 
that  I  have  ever  seen  where  I  would  be  perfectly 
content  to  live  and  die.  You  have  yet  to  learn 
that  '  distant  hills '  are  no  greener  than  those  of 
home,  and  you  will  travel  the  wide  world  over  and 
find  no  other  place  to  compare  with  this,  my  son. 
I  have  been  thinking  to-day,  Clifford,"  continued 
his  father,  as  he  pushed  his  plate  of  untasted  food 
back  on  the  table  and  folded  his  napkin — "  that  if 
I  had  only  a  tithe  of  the  fortune  that  I  once  lost 
on  this  spot,  it  might  be  enhanced  an  hundred-fold 
at  the  great  land-sale  Monday;  for  I  learn  by  to 
day's  Times  that  the  Mastodon  Bank  has  failed,  car 
rying  down  in  its  collapse  all  the  parties  who  had 
the  lands  condemned  for  sale,  so  now  they  are  un 
able  to  bid  at  the  auction,  and  hundreds  of  thou 
sands  of  acres  will  be  sold  at  a  few  cents  an  acre 
without  competition.  Oh,  I  realize  that  it  is  bitter, 
indeed,  to  be  poor,  my  boy,  for  it  is  only  your  am 
bition  that  drives  you  from  us,"  and,  rising,  he 
paced  back  and  forth  with  bowed  head,  while  Mrs. 


260  A   MOMENT   OF   ANGUISH. 

Warlow's  tears  flowed  unchecked  as  she  thought  of 
the  long,  dreary  years  that  might  drag  on  before  her 
beloved  boy  returned. 

The  Warlow  family  were  never  demonstrative. 
There  was  always  a  matter-of-fact  regard  for  each 
other ;  but  this  moment  of  sorrow  brought  to  the 
surface  a  depth  of  family  affection  of  which  Clifford 
had  never  dreamed,  and,  as  his  father  proceeded,  he 
became  more  deeply  affected  than  he  ever  had  been 
before. 

He  thought,  "  The  old  days  of  trial  and  poverty 
are  over  forever/'  and  as  the  realization  of  the  great 
change,  and  his  narrow  escape  from  the  misery  of 
self-exile  flashed  upon  him,  he  leaned  his  head  upon 
his  hands,  and  a  great  sob  shook  his  frame,  while 
hot  tears — yes,  tears,  which  danger  and  the  despair 
of  a  hopeless  love  had  failed  to  wring — now  fell  in 
a  torrent,  as  the  storm  of  emotion,  new  and  strange, 
surged  in  his  breast. 

"Oh,  Clifford— Clifford !  I  thought  you  were 
not  going,"  cried  Maud,  white  with  anguish. 

"  Cliff,  I  can  ?t  bear  to  see  you  leave,"  sobbed 
Robbie,  while  he  clung  to  Clifford  with  the  des 
peration  born  of  his  grief  at  the  very  thought  of 
parting  with  his  only  brother. 

"  Clifford,  what  does  this  mean  ?"  said  Maud, 
seized  by  a  nameless  dread ;  but  Clifford  only 
answered  by  pushing  back  the  table,  the  cover  of 
which  swept  the  floor  and  had  concealed  the  object 
that  was  now  revealed  in  the  lamp-light. 

"  Gold !  gold  !"  cried  Maud  in  amazement,   as 


AN    EMBARRASSMENT   OF   RICHES.  261 

her  eyes  caught  the  glitter  of  doubloons  heaped 
upon  the  floor. 

"  Oh  God  ! — my  lost  fortune  !"  said  the  colonel 
in  a  hoarse  whisper,  as  he  knelt  beside  the  half- 
emptied  sacks,  which  he  remembered  at  a  glance. 

"  My  brother — Clifford — you  are  a  grand  hero," 
shrieked  Maud,  wild  with  excitement  and  relief, 
and  then  ensued  a  contest  between  herself  and 
mother  who  should  first  strangle  our  young  friend 
in  their  embraces. 

"  Hero,  nothing !"  said  Rob,  who  had  just 
blown  his  nose  upon  the  table-cloth  with  a  snort 
like  a  porpoise,  and  who  was  still  blubbering  in  a 
suspicious  manner ;  "  heroes  do  n't  drip  at  the  nose 
like  a  hydrant;  but  all  the  same  he  is  a  damn 
good  fellow,"  he  added,  with  a  vigorous  slap  on  his 
brother's  back. 

"  I  have  something  else  to  show  you  over  at 
my  dwelling,"  said  Clifford,  recovering  from  his 
emotion,  and  smiling  up  at  Rob  ;  "  and,  if  you  will 
drive  around  there,  I  will  row  ahead  and  light  the 
lamps ;"  then,  without  waiting  to  explain,  he  hur 
ried  out  into  the  night.  Although  they  were  de 
voured  by  curiosity,  they  soon  concealed  the  gold, 
and  were  driven  rapidly  up  to  the  corral. 

"  I  bet  my  boot-heels  that  Cliff  has  got  that  old 
spook  chained  up  here,  feeding  him  like  a  pauper," 
said  Rob,  in  a  tone  of  confidence,  to  Maud — a  re 
mark  which  elicited  no  reply,  however,  for  she  was 
puzzling  over  the  strange  discovery  which  she  knew 
Clifford  had  made. 


262  AN   EMBARRASSMENT  OF  RICHES. 

When  they  arrived  at  his  dwelling  he  met  them 
at  the  door,  which  he  closely  locked  behind  them ; 
then,  going  to  the  sunken  chest,  he  threw  back  the 
lid,  and  a  wavering  glare  of  gems  and  red  gold 
flashed  out  with  a  splendor  which  dazzled  and 
almost  blinded  the  astonished  group. 

"The  treasure  of  Monteluma!"  exclaimed  the 
colonel,  in  a  tone  of  deep  emotion. 

"Oh,  those  frosty,  glimmering  pearls!"  said 
Maud,  exulting  in  the  splendor  of  the  jewels  that  she 
loved  so  well,  and  had  always  dreamed  of  owning. 

"  What  a  pile  of  lucre !"  cried  Rob,  dancing 
about  in  delight.  "  Lordy  !  if  I  owned  all  this  tin, 
I  'd  make  the  shekels  fly  for  awhile,  you  bet !  First, 
I'M  swap  that  slow,  flea-bitten  broncho  for  Ed 
Porter's  white  pony,  if  I  had  to  give  even  twenty 
dollars  to  boot ;  then  next  I M  have  me  a  brand- 
new  hat — a  broad  brim,  too — none  of  your  flimsy 
old  wool  things,  but  an  eight-dollar  sombrero,  thick 
as  a  board,  with  a  leather  band  an  inch  wide ;  then 
two  cravats — and — " 

"And  ?"  said  Clifford  with  a  quizzical  smile,  as 
Rob  began  to  show  signs  of  an  embarrassment  of 
riches. 

"  Well,  that's  all,  unless  it  is  a  pair  of  high-top 
boots,  like  Johnnie  Russell's — with  stars  and  new 
moons  of  red  and  yellow  leather  on  'em." 

"You  are  a  reckless  spenth rift,  Rob.  Thirty- 
five  dollars  gone  already  !"  said  Clifford,  laughingly, 
as  his  young  brother's  eyes  continued  to  gloat  ever 
the  million  of  heaped-up  riches  in  the  chest. 

"  Clifford,  my  son,  how  did   you    find   all  this 


INVESTMENTS   CONSIDEEED.  263 

treasure  ?     It  seems  like  enchantment,"  Mrs.  War- 
low  asked,  in  an  anxious  tone. 

"  Mother,  it  is  too  long  a  story  to  relate  now ; 
but  when  I  return  from  Abilene  I  '11  give  all  the 
particulars.  It  is  ten  now,"  he  said,  glancing  at  his 
watch,  "and  we  must  start  at  six  sharp,  in  the 
morning,  so  there  is  but  little  time  to  spare." 

"Yes,"  said  the  colonel,  recovering  from  the 
stupor  of  amazement  into  which  he  had  fallen,  "we 
will  start  to  the  land-office  early  in  the  morning; 
for  I  have  determined  to  invest  twenty  thousand  of 
our  new-found  money  in  land  ;  it  seems  providential 
that  it  should  come  just  now.  I  had  been  griev 
ing  so  much  of  late  that  this  golden  opportunity 
would  pass  by  ;  but,  thank  God !  it  will  come  out 
right  yet." 

Maud,  ever  tactful  and' alert,  seeing  that  Clifford 
was  unwilling  to  explain  the  particulars  of  the  dis 
covery,  hurried  their  departure  for  home.  When 
they  had  all  driven  away,  young  Warlow  filled  one 
of  the  sacks  with  coin,  and  placed  it  in  a  trunk  of 
clothing  that  was  ready  packed,  locked  the  door  be 
hind,  and  slowly  rowed  down ;  but  he  had  delayed 
long  enough  to  be  certain  of  finding  that  they  had 
all  retired  when  he  arrived  home. 

In  the  morning  Colonel  Warlow  was  too  unwell 
to  appear  at  the  breakfast-table,  and  finding  that  his 
indisposition  was  of  too  serious  a  nature  to  admit  of 
his  traveling  that  day,  Clifford  received  twenty  thou 
sand  dollars — nearly  thirteen  hundred  Mexican  doub 
loons — from  his  father,  with  the  instruction  to  invest 
it  in  land  at  his  discretion.  The  colonel  told  Clif- 


264  IRON    MOUND    AND   SOLDIER'S    CAP. 

ford  at  parting  to  consider  half  of  the  moiiey  as  bis 
own;  so  with  a  light  heart  the  youth  started  out  on 
his  third  essay  at  "fortune  hunting." 

Accompanied  by  Squire  Moreland  and  Ralph, 
who  had  unconsciously  helped  to  load  the  Warlovv 
carriage  with  more  than  seventy  thousand  dollars  in 
gold,  secreted  in  two  innocent-looking  trunks,  Clif 
ford  took  the  winding  trail  for  Abilene  just  as  the 
sun  appeared  above  the  rim  of  the  eastern  hills.  It 
was  a  cool,  dry  July  morning,  very  favorable  for 
producing  that  Western  phenomenon,  the  mirage; 
and  as  they  emerged  from  the  corn-fields  and  tall 
thickets  of  blue-stem  of  the  valley  onto  the  rolling 
uplands,  carpeted  with  buffalo-grass,  a  scene  of 
mysterious  grandeur  burst  upon  their  sight. 

Objects  that  were  miles  away  appeared  close  at 
hand,  plain  and  distinct  in  the  pure,  clear  air;  and 
although  a  lofty  ridge  twenty  miles  wide  inter 
posed,  all  the  valley  of  the  Smoky  Hill  was  rolled 
out  like  a  map  before  them.  The  winding  river, 
fringed  by  trees  and  groves;  the  wide  prairie  valley, 
flecked  with  white  villages;  a  long  train  on  the 
Union  Pacific,  "fleeing  like  a  dragon  through  the 
level  fields  and  leaving  a  breath  of  smoke  behind," 
seemed  but  a  few  miles  away. 

The  Iron  Mound,  sixty  miles  distant,  loomed  off 
to  the  north-west,  and  far  beyond  appeared  the  faint 
outline  of  the  Soldier's  Cap — a  towering  headland, 
that,  like  a  giant's  helmet,  seemed  to  guard  all  the 
Saline  Valley,  but  now  dwarfed,  by  the  hundred 
miles  which  intervened,  to  a  mere  dot  upon  the 
horizon. 


THE   MIRAGE."  265 

The  Smoky  Hills  flamed  up  in  a  long  line  of 
purple,  jagged  buttes  on  the  west,  while  to  the  south 
stretched  away  the  fat  prairies  of  the  Russian  Men- 
nonite  colony,  their  quaint,  old-world  villages  of 
thatch  and  white-plastered  adobe  clustering  thickly 
over  the  level  plain  that  was  begemmed  by  lakes  of 
waving  water,  or  what  appeared  to  be  such,  but 
which  in  reality  was  only  an  optical  illusion  caused 
by  a  glare  of  rarefied  atmosphere.  Soon  these 
phantom  lakes  began  to  flood  the  prairie  with  a 
wavering  shimmer.  Broad  rivers  became  momen 
tarily  wider,  until  all  the  landscape  was  submerged 
and  the  villages  swam  in  a  sea  of  water  a  moment, 
sinking  down  at  length  like  foundered  ships,  the 
white  buildings  towering  up  strangely  like  masts, 
which,  at  last,  all  sank  from  sight,  leaving  only  a 
glare  of  silver  behind. 

Soon  nature  resumed  her  wonted  aspect,  though 
it  seemed  strangely  unreal  to  see  the  Iron  Mound 
sink  slowly  as  they  ascended  the  ridge,  until  it  was 
lost  to  view,  and  what  had  been  the  Smoky  Valley 
but  a  moment  before  was  now  the  rolling  highland 
which  they  had  to  traverse  for  hours  before  reach 
ing  their  destination.  For  a  space  of  twenty  miles 
square,  not  a  solitary  house  was  to  be  seen.  In 
fact,  after  leaving  the  valley  the  only  sign  of  life 
visible  was  a  distant  herd  along  some  timber- fringed 
stream,  by  which  the  picturesque  and  fertile  tract 
was  threaded,  or  a  long  line  of  antelope,  that  would 
cautiously  keep  to  the  highest  ridges  as  they  loped 
away  in  single  file. 

The    ridged    and    travel    worn-trail,    where    in 
23 


266  INQUIRY   FOR   INFORMATION. 

former  years  the  herds  of  Texas  and  New  Mexico 
had  been  driven  along  to  Abilene,  was  now  disused 
and  lonely,  as  the  traffic  had  been  transferred  to 
more  western  points;  so  our  friends  were  relieved 
on  reaching  their  destination  after  a  monotonous 
drive  of  half  a  day. 

Driving  to  a  bank,  Clifford  deposited  the  un 
sealed  bags  of  gold  within  the  safe  of  that  institu 
tion,  while  his  two  .companions  were  looking  for  a 
hotel ;  then,  next,  young  Warlow  wrote  a  long  and 
carefully  worded  dispatch  to  the  American  minister 
at  Mexico,  inquiring  for  information  concerning 
Bruce  Walraven  and  his  wife,  Herr  Von  Brunn  and 
his  wife  Labella,  and  also  the  status  of  Monteluma, 
with  a  request  for  an  immediate  reply,  that  was  no 
doubt  facilitated  by  the  information  which  the  banker 
telegraphed,  at  Clifford's  request,  for  the  privilege 
of  reference. 

Without  difficulty  Clifford  perfected  the  title  to 
his  homestead  before  the  land  officers.  Then,  in  a 
fever  of  restlessness,  our  hero  passed  the  interven 
ing  time  until  Monday  morning,  when  he  received 
a  dispatch  from  the  minister  at  the  City  of  Mexico, 
stating  that  no  trace  could  be  found  of  either  of  the 
parties  inquired  for;  that  the  old  mansion  of  Mon 
teluma  had  been  confiscated  during  the  "  French 
invasion,"  but  the  estate  was  held  by  a  wealthy 
foreign  nobleman  ;  that  the  agent  of  that  nobleman 
was  absent  at  Durango,  so  no  further  particulars 
could  be  learned  until  his  return,  etc. 

"  This  is  the  last  evidence  in  the  proof  that 
Mora  is  heiress  to  all  the  new-found  treasure,"  men- 


A   GIGANTIC   LAND-SALE.  267 

tally  exclaimed  young  Warlow  as  he  hurried  into 
the  land-office  and  elbowed  his  way  through  the 
dense  throng  of  spectators  to  the  desk,  where  the 
receiver  was  gloomily  saying,  "  that  the  sale  would 
be  a  failure,  unless  the  agent  of  Lord  Scholeigh 
arrived,  which  was  improbable  now,  owing  to  the 
storm  near  St.  Louis,  that  had  prostrated  the  wires 
and  stopped  travel." 

"  Proceed  with  the  sale,  if  you  please ;  I  would 
like  to  bid  in  a  tract,"  said  Clifford  quietly.  Then, 
after  several  tracts  in  small  bodies  had  been  pur 
chased  by  the  bystanders,  he  began  to  bid  in  section 
after  section  at  fifty  cents  an  acre ;  and  when  the 
amount  ran  up  to  ten,  twenty,  and  twenty-three 
thousand  acres,  the  crowd  began  to  grow  curious, 
and  jostled  each  other  to  get  a  better  view  of  the 
man  who  could  bid  in  so  quietly  a  six-mile  square 
tract  without  faltering;  but  the  grave-faced  and 
gray-clad  young  ranchman,  with  no  ornament  about 
him  save  a  gold  buckle  to  the  collar  of  his  brown 
flannel  shirt,  kept  steadily  on,  without  any  opposi 
tion,  perfectly  heedless  of  the  scrutiny. 

"  He  is  a  son  of  Colonel  Warlow  on  the  Cot- 
tonwood,  who  fell  heir  to  a  cool  million  from  Cali 
fornia,  the  other  day,"  said  a  man,  in  a  tone  just 
loud  enough  to  reach  Clifford's  ears,  and  the  re 
ceiver  wondered  what  the  handsome  young  man 
found  to  smile  at  as  he  bid  in  the  last  section  of 
sixty-nine  thousand  acres ;  but  how  should  he  know 
that  Clifford  was  amused  at  the  remark,  thinking 
that  the  small  legacy  had  grown,  like  the  story  of 
the  "  five  black  crows." 


268  A    GIGANTIC   LAND-SALE. 

"  Young  man,"  said  the  receiver,  in  a  tone  of 
arrogant  suspicion.  "  I  shall  insist  on  some  proof 
of  your  ability  to  pay  such  a  large  sum  before  I 
proceed  further." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  replied  Clifford,  blowing  a 
wreath  of  cigar-smoke  into  the  official's  face  as  he 
coolly  handed  him  his  certificate  of  deposit,  subject 
to  check  of  seventy  thousand  dollars,  given  Satur 
day  evening  after  the  banker  had  counted  the  gold. 
Then,  young  Warlow  began  to  realize  the  prestige 
which  wealth  gives,  as  he  saw  the  look  of  insolence 
on  the  officer's  face  quickly  give  place  to  respectful 
wonder,  as  he  proceeded  at  once  with  the  auction. 

When  the  figures  had  reached  a  hundred  thou 
sand  acres  the  crowd  gave  way  to  cheers,  which 
swelled  to  a  perfect  tumult  when  six  townships — 
nearly  one  hundred  and  thirty-nine  thousand  acres — 
were  knocked  down  to  the  young  bidder,  who  re 
fused  to  bid  any  further,  and  the  sale  closed. 

Clifford  wrote  out  a  check  for  the  sum  of  sixty- 
nine  thousand  one  hundred  and  twenty  dollars,  and 
received  the  receiver's  certificate,  which  entitled  the 
purchaser  to  a  deed  for  the  tract.  As  the  officer 
closed  the  sale  and  the  papers  changed  hands  in  the 
bank,  a  noted  "  wheat-king"  hurried  in  and  told 
Clifford  that  the  New  York  agent  of  Lord  Scho- 
leigh  was  coming  on  a  special  train,  fast  as  steam 
could  carry  him,  and  requested  our  young  friend  to 
await  the  arrival,  as  the  agent  had  been  detained 
by  storms  and  wash-outs  while  en  route  to  the  sale  ; 
and  the  kingly  real  estate  agent  further  intimated 


THE   GRAY   SPECTRE.  269 

that  a  fine  profit  on  the  purchase  could  be  realized 
if  Clifford  was  willing  to  sell. 

So  our  hero  consented  to  remain,  and  when  the 
agent  arrived  he  was  almost  stunned  by  the  offer 
of  double  the  price  he  had  paid ;  the  agent  offering 
to  take  the  entire  tract  at  one  dollar  an  acre.  After 
some  deliberation  Clifford  consummated  a  sale  of 
seventy-five  thousand  acres,  keeping  a  township, 
six  miles  square,  for  himself,  and  forty  thousand 
acres  for  his  father;  and  finding  that  he  had  sev 
enty-five  thousand  dollars  left.  "  Equal,"  the 
wheat-king  said,  "  to  the  Dutchman's  profit  of  ten 
per  schent." 

Clifford  found  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  induce 
the  receiver  to  accept  the  agent's  certified  check  on 
New  York  in  exchange  for  his  own.  Then  he  ar 
ranged  to  leave  the  bag  of  doubloons,  sealed,  and 
only  left  for  safety  until  he  could  return  them  to 
the  chest;  but  the  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  of 
profit  he  deposited  with  the  bank,  subject  to  check. 
Having  bought  a  heavy  steel  safe,  with  time-lock, 
and  leaving  orders  for  it  to  be  delivered  at  once, 
he  returned  home  on  Tuesday  morning,  proud  and 
happy  over  the  result  of  his  transaction. 

When  he  arrived  at  home,  he  was  met  by  Rob, 
who  was  pale  and  excited.  When  Clifford  had 
hurriedly  asked  after  his  father's  welfare,  Rob  re 
plied  that  their  parent  was  well,  but  a  strange  acci 
dent  had  occurred  out  near  the  secret  cavern.  He 
proceeded  to  tell  how  the  gray-robed  spectre  had 
darted  out  from  among  the  tall  blue-stem,  while  one 


270  EAGLE   BEAK. 

of  their  workmen  was  mowing  near  there.  The  ap 
parition  had  so  startled  the  horses  that  they  became 
unmanageable,  and  when  the  strange  figure,  in  a 
reckless  manner,  had  sprung  at  their  heads,  they 
had  whirled,  throwing  the  crazied  being  under  the 
sickle  and  mangling  him  so  horribly  that  he  only 
lived  a  moment.  His  body  was  carried  to  the  cell, 
where  it  was  now  lying.  This  had  occurred  only  a 
few  hours  before,  and  all  the  family  were  up  there 
awaiting  Clifford's  return. 

Mounting  a  fresh  horse,  Clifford  galloped  rap 
idly  up  the  winding  pathway,  fearing — he  hardly 
dared  to  think  what.  "  Could  it  be  that  he  would 
soon  stand  beside  the  mangled  form  of  Bruce  Wai- 
raven,  Mora's  father?"  he  was  thinking  as  he  dis 
mounted  at  the  well-remembered  plum-thicket,  and 
hitched  his  hor*se  to  a  tree. 

A  moment  later  Maud  flew  out  with  a  low  cry 
of  delight,  and  while  embracing  Clifford,  she  cried 
tearfully :  —  -, 

"  Oh,  I  am  inexpressibly  relieved.  It  is  not 
Bruce,  as  we  feared,  but  it 's  that  blood-stained  Eagle 
Beak,  Olin  Estill's  partner  in  crime  and  final  victim." 

"  Why,  Maud !  how  do  you  know  ?"  said  he, 
breathless  with  suspense. 

u  They  found  a  silver  breastplate,  such  as  were 
worn  by  chiefs  in  the  early  days,  and  on  the  medal 
was  an  engraving  of  the  beak  of  an  eagle ;  while 
on  the  reverse,  now  worn  dim,  was  the  name, 
1  Eagle  Beak/  This  large  plate  was  hung  about 
his  neck  by  a  heavy  chain  of  silver,  which  was  riv 
eted  so  it  is  impossible  to  remove  it  without  filing 


EAGLE    BEAK.  271 

it  through,  and  the  links  have  worn  into  the  flesh — 
oh,  horrible!"  she  replied,  with  a  shudder  of 
disgust. 

With  reluctant  steps  Clifford  sought  the  cavern, 
where  his  parents  and  the  Moreland  family  were 
grouped  about  the  door;  and  after  a  few  minutes 
of  greeting,  he  went  in  alone  to  where  the  corpse 
was  lying  cold  and  still ;  and  when  he  had  removed 
the  white  sheet  from  its  face,  he  stood  long  and 
silently  regarding  the  revolting  picture  of  depravity 
and  ferocious  cunning  that  even  yet  showed  on 
every  feature,  frozen  in  the  rigid  calm  of  death. 

"  No,  thank  God !  this  is  not  the  face  of  noble 
Bruce;  but  still  it  is  that  of  a  white  man — some 
wretched  desperado,  who  had  fled  from  the  aveng 
ing  arm  of  justice,  and  had  gained  sway  over  a 
band  of  savages  as  brutal  and  vicious,  but  less  dar 
ing  and  cunning  than  himself,"  thought  young 
Warlow.  "  This  certainly  is  a  sermon  on  the 
retribution  which  Providence  holds  in  store  for 
those  who  perpetrate  such  crimes  of  inhuman 
atrocity  as  this  wretch  is  stained  with,"  he  said, 
as  Maud  came  into  the  cell. 

They  buried  the  remains  upon  a  lofty  hill  near 
by,  the  top  of  which  was  visible  from  their  homes 
in  the  valley;  no  ceremony  was  observed,  but 
the  horrible  details  of  burial  were  delegated  to 
a  few  workmen  from  the  hay-field,  and  by  three 
that  afternoon  only  a  small  mound  of  clay  re 
mained  to  tell  of  a  life  that  had  been  but  a  fever 
of  bloody  deeds. 

Once — long   years   after — as   Clifford   stood    in 


272    "DEACON"  WARLOW'S  STRANGE  CREED. 

the  twilight  with  Maud,  they  heard  the  jabbering 
wail  of  a  wolf  on  the  grave-crowned  hill,  and  Clif 
ford  said : — 

"If  the  departed  soul  does  hover  about  the 
grave  after  death,  seeking  re-embodiment,  then 
Eagle  Beak  has  surely  been  born  again  in  the 
form  of  a  wolf;  for  he  was  the  very  incarnation, 
no  doubt,  of  such  a  beast  during  his  existence 
here.  I  never  pass  by  that  thistle-grown  and 
nettle-hidden  grave  without  a  shudder;  and  often 
in  the  dismal  night,  when  just  such  a  piercing 
howl  resounds  from  that  hill-top,  I  vaguely  fancy 
it  is  the  soul  of  Eagle  Beak  mourning  because  of 
the  limited  sphere  of  deviltry  in  which  his  '  wolf- 
life  '  constrains  his  savage  spirit." 

"  Oh,  Clifford !  will  you  never  outgrow  such, 
idle  fancies?"  Maud  exclaimed. 

"No,  never  so  long  as  I  meet  foxes,  jackals, 
and  hyenas  every  day,  that  are  only  veiled  by  a 
human  form — very  thinly  disguised  often — and  it 
is  God's  goodness,  alone,  that  finally  denies  them 
that  mask." 

"  Clifford,  my  brother,  what  a  strange  belief  for 
'Deacon'  Warlow,  pillar  of  the  Church,  and  first 
in  all  good  deeds  of  Christian  charity  and  enter 
prise  in  his  community,  to  entertain  and  express," 
she  replied,  with  a  look  of  strange  interest  dawning 
in  her  beautiful  but  matronly  face. 

"  Well,  Maud,  I  find  abundant  proof  in  the 
Bible  to  substantiate  this  faith,"  he  answered, 
gravely,  "while  our  lives  teem  with  the  evidence 
of  its  truth." 


273 

But  I  have  digressed  too  long  already,  and  will 
return  to  my  theme. 

As  they  drove  back  home  from  the  death- 
haunted  cell,  Clifford  told  his  parents  of  his  search 
for  the  treasure;  how,  after  discovering  the  gems, 
he  had  been  convinced  that  the  gold  was  also 
secreted  near,  and  his  ultimate  success  in  discov 
ering  it  buried  in  the  grave  that  Roger  Coble  had 
noticed  when  he  rescued  his  father  after  the  mas 
sacre.  The  finding  of  Ivarene's  Journal,  his  en 
gagement  to  Mora,  and  discovery  that  she  was  the 
daughter  of  Bruce  and  his  ill-fated  wife,  and  the 
successful  speculation  in  which  he  had  figured  with 
such  great  profit  at  Abilene,  were  left  unrevealed, 
as  Clifford  thought  his  father  was  not  strong  enough 
to  bear  the  strain  of  such  excitement  yet. 

With  Maud  he  was  not  so  reticent,  and  after 
supper  he  told  of  the  success  at  the  land-office,  and 
the  use  he  had  made  at  Mora's  request  of  part  of 
the  recovered  treasure. 

After  Maud  had  expressed  her  unbounded  joy 
at  the  substantial  results  of  that  venture,  Clifford 
noticed  a  shade  of  anxiety  and  sadness  settle  down 
on  her  face,  and  he  hastened  to  say,  while  reaching 
up  to  gather  a  spray  of  trumpet-flowers  that  swung 
its  blossoms  of  black,  crimson,  and  salmon  in  heavy 
festoons  over  the  latticed  gateway :  "  Maud,  you 
dear,  unselfish  creature,  I  know  that  you  and 
Ealph  are  about  to  begin  life  together,  and,  when 
father  offered  me  half  of  the  twenty  thousand  dol 
lars,  I  just  mentally  Concluded  to  give  you  the 
benefit  of  it.  It  seems  to  me  you  ought  to  keep 

24 


274  A   STRANGE   DREAM. 

the    pot    boiling    with    twenty   thousand  acres   of 
good  land." 

While  Maud  hung  about  his  neck,  her  tear 
ful  face  hidden  on  his  shoulder,  her  brother 
continued : — 

"  Poor  Ralph  will  need  a  great  deal  of  encour 
agement  from  you.  I  have  been  in  that  very  kind 
of  a  boat  myself  lately,  and  know  how  to  sympa 
thize  with  him." 

Soon  he  was  galloping  down  to  the  Estill 
ranch;  but  I  will  not  intrude  upon  the  privacy 
of  that  meeting  between  himself  and  Mora,  only 
leaving  it  all  to  the  imagination  of  the  reader. 
Mr.  Estill  had  not  returned  yet,  so  they  still  de 
ferred  making  any  explanation  of  the  strange  dis 
coveries  made  since  his  departure.  It  was  agreed, 
however,  to  reveal  all  on  his  return.  Plans  for  the 
future  were  discussed  as  they  strolled  out  on  the 
terrace ;  and  before  he  left,  young  Warlow  had  won 
a  promise  that  their  wedding-day  would  be  an  early 
one — some  time  in  September,  Mora  said. 

"  I  have  had  such  a  strange  dream,  twice  on 
successive  nights,  lately,  Clifford.  It  seemed  as 
though  I  was  Ivarene,  and  that  I  led  a  dual  sort 
of  an  existence,  part  of  the  time  as  myself,  and  at 
other  times  I  was  that  ill-fated  Mexican  bride, 
longing  to  meet  Bruce  once  more.  Some  way, 
Clifford,  I  never  can  reconcile  myself  to  the  belief 
that  they  are  my  parents,  and  the  suspense  of  this 
uncertainty  is  growing  unbearable." 

Clifford  was  very  thoughtful  for  a  long  while 
after  this;  but  at  length  he  begged  her  to  await 


PREPARATIONS.  275 

the  return  of  Mr.  Estill  before  they  divulged  the 
secret.  Then,  after  a  lingering  parting,  he  returned 
home  to  begin,  on  the  morrow,  preparations  for  the 
new  life  that  was  before  him. 

Before  leaving  Abilene  he  had  engaged  a  skillful 
stone-mason,  who  was  to  begin  enlarging  his  dwell 
ing  at  once  with  a  large  force  of  workmen  at  his 
command;  and  I  will  only  briefly  tell  how  soon  the 
cottage  grew  into  a  many-gabled  mansion  of  red 
sandstone,  with  bay-windows  and  long  wings,  ter 
races  of  stone,  with  balustrades  of  white  magnesia, 
and  marble  vases  filled  with  blooming  plants,  that 
trailed  down  their  sides  with  blossoms  of  rose, 
creamy  white  and  scarlet. 

A  thousand  head  of  cattle  were  bought,  and 
hurrying  workmen  were  busy  stacking  vast  ricks 
of  prairie-hay  near  the  large  barn  that  was  rising 
like  magic  under  the  trowels  of  a  score  of  masons. 

In  these  details  I  have  anticipated  somewhat, 
but  will  return  to  the  thread  of  my  story. 

The  suspicions  of  the  colonel  and  Mrs.  Warlow 
were  at  once  aroused  by  seeing  a  force  of  workmen 
beginning  to  enlarge  Clifford's  dwelling;  and  on 
perceiving  this,  Clifford  hastened  to  reveal  all  the 
discoveries  and  transactions  of  the  past  few  weeks. 
The  journal  deeply  afflicted  his  father,  who  at  once 
came  to  the  same  conclusion  which  the  younger 
members  of  the  family  had  arrived  at  on  reading 
that  document, — that  Bruce  and  his  wife  had  been 
murdered  by  Olin  Estill,  who  had  stolen  their  child 
and  had  left  it  at  the  Estill  ranch;  that  Mora  was 
that  child,  and  that  the  family  had  raised  her  as 


276          "is  MORA  BRUCE'S  DAUGHTER?" 

their  own  daughter.  When  Clifford  told  of  his 
success  in  the  land  transaction  and  of  wishing  that 
Maud  should  have  the  twenty  thousand  acres  meant 
for  himself,  his  parents  seemed  both  pleased  and 
proud  of  his  course,  although  his  father  cautioned 
him  against  using  any  more  ,of  the  treasure  until 
Mr.  Estill  was  made  aware  of  the  discovery. 

"  Did  not  the  Estills  tell  you  that  Mora  was  the 
daughter  of  Bruce  and  Ivarene  when  they  made 
their  first  visit  here?"  said  Clifford,  in  surprise. 

"Why,  no,  indeed!"  replied  his  father;  "they 
told  us  of  the  part  which  they  feared  their  nephew 
took  in  the  massacre.  They  believed  he  murdered 
the  originals  of  the  pictures  which  he  left  at  their 
house  soon  after  that  tragedy,  but  he  appeared  to 
be  insane  and  they  never  saw  him  alive  again.  It 
was  months  after  when  his  skeleton  was  found  on 
the  prairie,  barely  recognizable,  which  they  buried 
on  a  hill  near  the  ranch." 

"  And  that  was  all  ?"  said  Clifford,  in  a  tone  of 
anxiety.  "  But  do  you  not  think  that  Mora  is 
Bruce's  daughter?" 

"I  have  no  doubt  of  it;  for  she  is  the  perfect 
counterpart  of  Ivarene  in  voice,  face,  and  expression, 
although  her  eyes  are  blue  while  those  of  Ivarene 
were  black.  Still  the  same  look  is  there  that  I 
shall  never  forget.  Why,  when  I  meet  her  gaze,  it 
always  seems  that  Ivarene  is  trying  to  speak  to  me 
once  more,"  said  the  colonel  with  deep  emotion. 

After  this  interview,  Clifford  lost  no  time  in 
hurrying  down  to  the  Estill  ranch  to  seek  an  inter 
view  with  Mora ;  and  after  they  had  met,  with  all 


A   STARTLING   ANNOUNCEMENT.  277 

the  demonstrations  peculiar  to  lovers,  he  noticed  a 
strange  look  of  trouble  on  her  face,  and  when  he 
tenderly  asked  its  cause,  she  faltered  a  moment, 
then  bursting  into  tears,  and  hiding  her  face  on  his 
breast,  she  confessed  that  the  suspense  of  awaiting 
her  father's  return  had  become  at  last  unendurable, 
and  she  had  told  her  mother  all  the  particulars  of 
their  engagement,  the  discovery  of  the  treasure, 
their  subsequent  use  of  a  portion  of  it,  and  their 
well-founded  belief  that  she  was  the  daughter  of 
Bruce  and  Ivarene  Wai  raven. 

"She  confessed,  then,  that  it  was  true?"  said 
Clifford,  in  a  tone  of  suspense. 

"  No,  stranger  still !"  said  Mora,  as  she  raised 
a  tear-stained  face  to  his — "  no,  Clifford,  she  seemed 
struck  dumb  with  astonishment,  and  reiterated  the 
assertion  solemnly  that  I  was  her  only  daughter, 
born  five  years  after  that  tragedy.  I  am  convinced 
that  it  is  true,  Clifford ;  nothing  can  convince  me 
that  she  is  trying  to  deceive  us,  for  she  is  too  sin 
cere  to  keep  the  truth  from  us  now.  Yes,  I  am  an 
Estill ;  but  she  said  that  my  strange  resemblance 
to  the  picture  in  the  locket  had  always  perplexed 
her,  and  my  father  and  they  were  very  sensitive  on 
the  subject.  She  saw  you  were  startled  by  my  lack 
of  resemblance  to  any  one  of  the  family,  when  you 
made  your  first  visit  here  ;  but  she  is  glad  to  know 
that  you  are  to  be  her  son  at  last,  Clifford."  Had 
a  thunderbolt  fallen  at  his  feet,  young  Warlow 
could  not  have  been  more  startled  than  he  was  at 
this  announcement.  Then,  after  a  moment  of 
silence,  he  said  :  "  Ah  !  Mora  darling,  it  does  not 


278  MYSTERIOUS   LIGHTS. 

matter  whose  daughter  you  may  be,  so  your  heart 
is  mine ;  but  how  strange  it  is  that  we  should  have 
arrived  at  such  a  wrong  conclusion !"  Then,  as 
he  began  to  reflect,  he  found  that  her  mysterious 
resemblance  to  Ivarene  was  their  strongest  proof 
that  she  was  not  an  Estill. 

An  interview  with  Mrs.  Estill  followed,  in  which 
she  gave  a  willing  assent  to  the  lovers'  union  ;  then 
she  again  asserted,  with  truth  and  sincerity  stamped 
upon  her  face  and  tone,  that  Mora  was  her  only 
daughter,  born  of  her  own  flesh  and  blood,  but  that 
there  was  a  mystery  connected  with  her  birth 
which  she  had  never  revealed  to  any  one  but  her 
husband. 

"Mother!  mother!  what  is  it?"  said  Mora  in 
great  agitation,  while  Clifford  sprang  up  with  a  look 
of  intense  interest  depicted  upon  his  face. 

"  It  is  a  strange  and  unreal  thing  to  relate  in 
this  enlightened  and  skeptical  age,  and  I  should 
never  divulge  it  but  for  the  events  of  the  last  few 
days;  but  Mora's  .unaccountable  resemblance  to  the 
face  in  the  locket,  which  is  that  of  Ivarene,  is  not 
the  only  mystery  that  surrounds  her  birth.  In  the 
autumn  of  1849,  September  16th — I  remember  the 
date  perfectly — one  of  our  herders  came  in  at  night 
very  much  terrified  by  a  sight  which  he  had  just 
witnessed.  He  had  seen  two  mysterious  lights  flit 
ting  about  the  base  of  Antelope  Butte,  several  miles 
up  the  valley,  where  he  had  been  looking  after  our 
cattle  that  had  become  scattered  while  we  Were  at 
Fort  Riley — driven  to  take  refuge  there  from  the 
Cheyenne  Indians  that  were  raiding  the  frontier 


MYSTERIOUS   LIGHTS.  279 

settlements  during  August.  Why  I  remember  the 
date  so  distinctly  is  from  the  fact  that  we  had  only 
returned  that  day,  finding  our  cabin  in  ashes. 

"  Fearing  it  might  be  some  signal  of  lurking 
savages,  Mr.  Estill  and  myself  ran  with  the  herder 
to  the  bluff  which  overlooks  the  house  on  the  north, 
and  saw  a  sight  that  was  full  of  mystery  ;  and  which, 
in  fact,  was  never  explained. 

"  There  were  two  large  blue  lights,  of  such  an 
unnatural  color  and  appearance  as  to  attract  instant 
attention,  flitting  about  up  the  valley  v  They  would 
seem  to  skim  along  in  long,  undulating  swells,  like 
the  flight  of  swallows,  often  rising  hundreds  of  feet 
in  the  air,  but  always  darting  back  to  the  base  of 
the  butte.  We  were  relieved  to  know  it  was  not 
Indians,  and  thinking  it  was  one  of  those  gaseous 
or  igneous  phenomena  peculiar  to  water-courses, 
we  did  not  investigate  further,  but  only  regarded 
their  appearance  with  curiosity. 

"  Their  visits  finally  reached  our  premises,  and  I 
was  horrified  to  see  them  hovering  about  the  house 
later  in  the  season ;  but  all  our  attempts  to  ap 
proach  them  were  frustrated,  for  they  would  recede 
as  we  advanced ;  then  we  really  began  to  feel  how 
very  unaccountable  they  were,  and  became  per 
plexed  with  the  mystery.  This  state  of  affairs  con 
tinued  until  Christmas  eve,  1852.  As  I  was  stand 
ing  at  a  window  with  Hugh  in  my  arms,  I  saw  the 
two  lights  come  flitting  down  the  valley  together. 
When  they  reached  a  point  close  to  the  house  they 
halted,  and,  after  hovering  about  together  for  a 
while,  the  larger  light  darted  off  eastward,  and  was 


280  PHANTOMS   OF   THE   PAST. 

never  seen  again.  The  lesser  one  remained  fllitting 
about  the  house,  or  to  and  fro  between  here  and 
Antelope  Butte,  until,  one  night  in  May,  1854,  the 
light,  after  hovering  near  by,  disappeared  forever. 
That  very  night  Mora  was  born.  Seeing  a  resem 
blance  in  her  childish  face  to  that  within  the  locket — 
a  likeness  that  has  increased  with  her  age,  until 
now  she  is  the  very  image  of  poor,  dead  Ivarene — 
we  named  her  Morel ia  (shortened  to  Mora  by  her 
friends),  a  name  that  was  engraved  and  set  with 
rubies  upon  the  locket.  We  thought  this  the  name, 
of  course,  of  the  female  face  within  the  locket,  but 
from  the  Journal  of  Ivarene  it  is  apparent  that  it 
was  the  name  of  her  dead  mother  instead. 

"  This  precious  locket  had  been  flung  at  my  feet 
by  Olin  Estill,  a  renegade  nephew  of  my  husband, 
whom  he  had  discarded  on  account  of  his  vicious 
tendencies,  and  who  had  been  leading  a  mysterious 
existence,  connected,  I  now  fear,  with  a  band  of 
outlaws  that  committed  the  massacre  at  the  corral. 
He  had  been  absent  from  our  house  several 
months,  until  the  day  after  our  return  he  suddenly 
appeared  at  the  tent-door,  and,  after  glaring  at  me 
a  moment,  had  flung  the  locket  at  my  feet,  then, 
with  a  blood-chilling  shriek,  had  fled  away.  We 
never  saw  him  alive  after  that  day ;  but  his  skele 
ton,  torn  asunder  by  wolves  and  barely  recogniza 
ble,  was  found  months  after,  and  buried  upon  a 
hill-top  near  here." 

"  Did  you  never  search  Antelope  Butte  ?"  Clif 
ford  asked,  with  grave  thoughtfulness  depicted  in 
his  face. 


PHANTOMS   OF  THE   PAST.  281 

"  No ;  we  never  did,  although  we  once  talked 
of  doing  so,  but  forgot  it  soon  in  the  anxiety  and 
care  of  our  life,"  she  answered. 

"  I  shall  do  so  to-morrow,"  he  said,  "  for  I  be 
lieve  the  mystery  of  their  fate  is  hidden  there. 
Yes,  Bruce  and  Ivarene  must  have  died  some  ter 
rible  death  there  at  that  bluff,  and  I  shall  never 
rest  until  the  cloud  that  wraps  their  fate  is  dis 
pelled." 

On  his  return  home  he  related  to  his  parents 
the  story  which  Mrs.  Estill  had  told.  When  he 
had  finished,  his  mother  was  pale  with  a  strange 
excitement ;  and  his  father  exclaimed  in  a  hoarse 
voice  of  agitation  : — 

"  Clifford,  you  should  make  a  careful  search  on 
Antelope  Butte  in  the  morning.  I  fear  that  Bruce 
and  Ivarene  perished  there." 

"  My  son,  I  never  have  told  you  that  only  a 
few  months  before  you  were  born  just  such  a  light 
flashed  into  my  room  as  the  one  that  flitted  about 
the  Estill  ranch,"  said  Mrs.  Warlow,  pale  and 
trembling  with  emotion.  "It  was  on  Christmas 
Eve,  1852,  that  I  was  sitting  in  the  firelit  room 
waiting  your  father's  return,  when  I  saw  a  pale 
blue  haze  dart  past  the  window,  hover  a  moment, 
then  return ;  and  as  I  raised  the  sash  I  seemed  to 
be  smothered  by  a  flash  of  thick,  luminous  fog,  and 
fell  prostrated  as  by  a  stroke  of  lightning.  I  did 
not  lose  consciousness,  however,  but  called  one  of 
the  negro  women,  who  helped  me  to  a  lounge,  and 
lit  the  lamp.  I  was  nervous  about  the  occurrence ; 
but  your  father  explained  the  phenomenon  as  being 


282  STRANGE   FANCIES. 

only  a  collection  of  natural  gas,  generated  in  damp 
localities.  The  light  flitted  about  for  a  few  months ; 
but  on  the  night  of  your  birth,  Clifford,  it  disap 
peared,  and  was  never  seen  again.  How  strange 
that  one  of  those  lights  should  disappear  from  her 
house  that  night,  and  appear  at  mine,  hundreds  of 
miles  away!  Then  the  similar  circumstances  un 
der  which  those  mysterious  halos  vanished — the 
very  night,  it  appears,  of  your  birth  and  that 
of  Mora!  She  was  born  in  May,  1854,  so  Mrs. 
Estill  says." 

"  We  must  search  Antelope  Butte  in  the  morn 
ing,"  said  Clifford,  trying  to  conceal  his  agitation 
and  to  speak  calmly ;  "  for  I  fear  that  the  final 
tragedy  of  Bruce  and  Ivarene  was  enacted  there. 
I  dread  the  discovery  that  we  may  make,  while,  at 
the  same  time,  I  long  to  unravel  the  dark  mystery 
which  enwraps  their  fate."  Then  he  hurriedly  left 
the  room  and  sought  slumber  in  the  quiet  of  his  own 
bed-chamber ;  but  it  was  in  vain,  for  strange  fancies 
kept  him  awake  and  thoughtful  while  the  hours 
slowly  dragged  by. 

Since  the  night  when  he  had  seen  that  weird  and 
unearthly  phantom  war-dance  around  the  long 
grave,  Clifford  had  begun  to  entertain  some  strange 
fancies,  which  slowly  grew  upon  him  as  he  reviewed 
the  stories  which  Mrs.  Estill  and  his  mother  had 
told  that  evening,  until  finally  he  said,  as  the  gray 
of  morning  began  to  tinge  the  eastern  sky  with  its 
ashy  pallor : — 

"  I  am  almost  convinced  that  Bruce's  theory  is 
a  true  one.  Father  has  long  believed  me  to  be  the 


A    GLIMPSE   OF   THE   TRUTH.  283 

reincarnation  of  the  spirit  of  Bruce  Walraven. 
This,  if  true,  will  account  for  my  strange  resemblance 
to  a  man  who  died,  in  all  probability,  long  before  I 
was  born,  and  will  also  account  for  the  mysterious 
memories  which  always  haunt  me,  like  the  glimpses 
of  a  former  life.  Can  it  be  possible  that  the  soul, 
at  will,  can  take  on  a  new  body  again  after  death, 
and  profit  by  its  past  mistakes  ?  That  would  be  a 
resurrection,  indeed !  Can  it  be  that  all  the  air 
about  us  is  peopled  by  the  spiritual  outlines  of 
dead  and  half-forgotten  friends,  only  waiting  their 
time  to  be  re-born,  and  we  ourselves  may  be  but 
bodies  that  are  inhabited  by  the  souls  of  people 
who  have  lived  before  ?  If  this  theory  is  as  cor 
rect  as  it  is  comforting,  then  death  has  lost  all  its 
terrors ;  for  what  could  inspire  more  delight  in  the 
heart  of  an  aged  and  care-worn  person  than  the 
knowledge  that,  after  he  had  cast  off  his  faded  and 
wrinkled  body,  by  that  process  which  we  call  death, 
he  could  walk  again  in  all  the  freshness  of  youth 
and  beauty  on  earth,  which,  say  what  we  may,  is 
dearer  than  any  other  place  can  ever  be. 

"  This  theory  I  shall  put  to  the  test  to-day/' 
our  hero  said ;  "  for  if  the  remains  of  Bruce  and 
Ivarene  are  found  near  Antelope  Butte — as  I  am 
convinced  that  they  will  be — then  my  conjectures 
are  confirmed  and  the  mystery  of  eternity,  which  has 
mocked  and  puzzled  man  from  his  creation,  is  re 
vealed.  It  will  prove  that  those  mysterious  lights 
were  their  spirits  still  hovering  about  their  grave, 
waiting  their  opportunity  to  be  re-born.  This 
looks  no  more  improbable  than  many  of  the  myste- 


284     A    COMFORTING  AND  SEDUCTIVE  THEORY. 

ries  of  science  did  a  few  years  ago.  But,  then,  life 
itself  would  still  remain  a  grand  mystery,  as  would 
sight,  sound,  and  hearing." 

By  this  time  he  had  arisen,  and,  after  dressing, 
he  seated  himself  before  the  tall  mirror. 

"  This  strange  belief  has  been  growing  upon 
me  since  I  heard  Mrs.  EstilPs  and  mother's  revela 
tions  until  it  has  become  almost  conviction,  and  if 
we  find  that  on  Antelope  Butte,  which  I  feel  we 
will — then  it  will  convince  me  that  Mora  is — God 
how  strange  that  sounds  ! — Ivarene  born  again  to 
enjoy  the  happiness  which  her  untimely  fate  pre 
vented  her  securing  in  her  brief  life." 

As  he  scanned  his  own  reflection  in  the  mirror, 
by  the  sunlight,  which  now  was  flooding  the  east 
ern  hills  in  its  golden  mantle,  while  a  look  of 
growing  wonder  and  strange  curiosity  came  over  his 
face,  he  exclaimed,  with  a  start :  "  Then  Bruce 
Walraven  is — myself!" 

After  a  moment  of  serious  reflection,  he  con 
tinued  :  "  Well,  there  is  nothing  so  very  improb 
able  or  uncanny  in  the  thought,  at  last ;  for  it  is  just 
as  probable  that  God  may  have  given  me  a  soul 
that  had  lived  before,  as  one  that  had  not.  No ; 
human  nature  has  too  much  wisdom  to  ever  have 
gained  it  by  one  life." 

If  our  hero's  theory  was  true,  then  Bruce  could 
not  have  asked  a  better  fate  than  to  live  his  life 
again  as  the  handsome  youth  reflected  there,  with 
his  crisp  golden  hair,  eyes  of  pansy  blue,  and  the 
flush  of  young  manhood  on  his  glossy  cheeks. 


ANTELOPE  BUTTE.  285 


Chapter  XXI. 

AN  hour  later  found  the  Warlow  family  at  the 
foot  of  Antelope  Butte,  whither  they  had  all 
driven  to  make  a  search  for — what  they  shrank 
from  saying.  They  had  been  there  only  a  short 
time  when  they  saw  the  Estill  carriage  coming. 
When  it  drew  near  they  discovered  that  it  was  Mrs. 
Estill  and  Mora,  who,  when  they  were  assisted  to 
alight,  said  they  had  seen  the  Warlow  carriage  with 
their  field-glass,  and  suspecting  the  meaning  of  its 
visit  to  the  butte,  they  had  hurried  up  to  join  the 
search  with  their  friends. 

As  Clifford,  Rob,  and  Ralph  were  carefully 
searching  the  face  of  the  declivity,  Mrs.  Warlow 
told  Mrs.  Estill  of  the  remarkable  fact  that  she  had 
also  seen  that  mystic  light  on  the  night  it  had  dis 
appeared  from  Estill  Ranch ;  then,  as  Mora  drew 
near,  she  gave  a  circumstantial  account  of  the  event, 
which  caused  her  hearers  to  exchange  looks  of  per 
plexed  amazement. 

Mora  became  thoughtfully  silent,  and,  leaving 
the  others,  she  wandered  restlessly  back  and  forth 
at  the  foot  of  the  bluff,  watching  the  searchers 
intently. 

She  was  startled  at  length  by  a  cry  of  astonish 
ment  from  Clifford,  and  with  the  others  she  hast 
ened  up  the  steep  acclivity  to  where  he  stood  in  a 
recess  of  the  cliff.  When  she  reached  his  side  he 


286  THE   CARVED   INSCRIPTION. 

was  leaning  heavily  against  the  rocky  wall,  white 
and  trembling. 

"  Oh,  .Clifford !  speak!  what  is  it?"  she  cried, 
breathless  with  a  strange  dread. 

He  could  only  point  to  the  face  of  the  rock  with 
an  unsteady  finger,  while  the  sweat-drops  rained 
down  from  his  white  face,  wrung  by  an  agony  of 
emotion  which  he  vainly  strove  to  repress. 

Sinking  down  upon  the  sloping  mound,  matted 
with  grass,  and  kneeling  there  at  the  foot  of  the 
cliff  she  read  with  a  startled  gaze  the  inscription 
which  was  carved  in  faint,  moss-grown  letters,  upon 
the  magnesian  stone : — 

"My  Ivarene,  my  lost  love,  lies  dead  beside  me 
with  our  little  child,  cold  and  still,  on  her  breast. 
I  am  wounded  and  dying;  but  death  is  sweet  now. 
We  were  coming  here  to  watch  for  the  trains  when 
we  were  assaulted  by  the  strange  hunter,  who  shot 
us  both.  My  love  only  breathed'  one  breath.  I 
carried  her  here.  The  child  was  pierced  by  the 
same  shot.  My  eyes  are  growing  dim ;  but  I  wel 
come  death.  Oh,  farewell,  bright  world  !  I  feel  my 
life  ebbing  fast  away,  but  would  not  stay  without 
my  darling.  I  go  to  meet  her  where  there  will  be 
no  more  parting.  Oh,  the  joy  and  bliss  to  see  her 
smile  again!  It  makes  me  long  for  death.  "VVe 
shall  live  again !  Bru — " 

With  a  wild  cry  of  agonized  grief,  Mora  covered 
her  face,  while  the  others  read,  with  streaming  eyes, 
that  last  message  from  the  tomb.  Then,  as  they 
drew  back  and  waited  with  broken  sobs  and  smoth 
ered  weeping,  Ralph  and  Robbie  began  tenderly  to 


THE   SKELETONS.  287 

remove  the  debris  and  soil  which  time  had  formed 
into  a  mound  below  the  inscription. 

When,  at  last,  there  was  revealed  two  skeletons, 
locked  together  in  the  last  clasp  of  love,  which  even 
death  could  not  sever,  Maud  cried  aloud  with  a  wail 
of  anguish : — 

"  Oh,  can  this  be  the  last  of  beautiful  Ivarene 
and  dear,  brave  Bruce?" 

Choking  back  their  sobs,  they  all  knelt  in  a 
circle,  while  Mrs.  \Yarlow's  voice  rose  in  a  passion 
ate,  fervid  prayer;  then  tenderly,  with  loving  care, 
they  carried  the  remains  down  to  the  Warlow  car 
riage,  leaving  Mora  and  Clifford  still  lingering  by 
the  vacant  mound. 

They  stood  in  silence  a  moment,  the  only  sound 
the  soft  rustle  of  wild-ivy  that  half  draped  the  cliff 
in  its  mottled  foliage  of  crimson,  green,  and  bronze ; 
the  radiant  sunlight  from  the  cloudless  sky  lit  up 
the  sunflowers  and  gentian  that  grew  in  stunted 
clusters  on  the  hillside,  while  the  sumac  flaunted  its 
plumes  of  scarlet,  gold,  and  purple  along  the  rifts 
of  the  white,  rocky  wall. 

Lifting  their  gaze  from  the  open  grave,  their 
eyes  met  in  a  swift  flash  of  joy,  while  a  half-puzzled 
look  of  delight  and  recognition  struggled  over  their 
faces;  then,  bounding  lightly  over  the  open  grave, 
Clifford  whispered  in  a  tone  of  unspeakable  love 
and  yearning: — 

"Oh,  Ivarene,  my  sweetheart  of  long  ago,  we 
meet  at  last  I" 

"Then  it  is  as  I  have  dreamed — and  you  are 


288  WEDDING  MORN  AT  STONE  CORRAL. 

Bruce  I"  she  answered,  with  a  sob  of  joy,  while 
springing  into  his  outstretched  arms. 

"Yes,  love,  I  am  convinced  that  we  meet  again 
after  all  these  years  of  waiting.  Though  to  the 
world  we  may  be  only  Mora  and  Clifford,  yet,  dar 
ling,  to  each  other  we  will  ever  be  Ivarene  and 
Bruce,"  he  replied,  while  raining  kisses  upon  her 
upturned,  radiant  face. 

Ah  !  how  can  I  tell  of  the  serene  wedding  morn 
that  marked  that  happy  day  when  Clifford  and  Mora 
paced  back  and  forth  on  the  sun  lighted  terrace  at 
the  Stone  Corral,  now  no  longer  a  modest  cottage, 
but  a  stately  though  quaint  mansion  of  red  sand 
stone.  The  tender,  blue  haze  of  Indian  summer 
brooded  over  the  valley,  where  the  fields  of  wheat 
shone  dewy  and  green,  and  the  newly-mown  meadows 
stretched  away  like  a  verdant  carpet  far  out  onto 
the  highlands,  miles  upon  miles — all  their  own. 
The  marble  fountain  threw  a  glittering  sheen  of 
silver  high  in  the  air,  while  the  breeze  swept  the 
blossom-laden  tendrils  that  trailed  down  the  snowy 
vases,  and  swayed  the  limbs  of  the  old  elm  to  and 
fro  about  the  gables  of  the  elegant  home. 

"  Oh,  Ivarene,  dear  love !  how  strange  it  is  to 
take  up  the  thread  of  our  happiness  on  the  spot, 
almost  where  our  lives  went  out  in  such  black  despair 
just  twenty-six  years  ago  !  I  know  why  you  wish 
to  have  our  bridal  here,  darling ;  for  it  was  here, 
at  the  Old  Corral,  that  our  former  trials  over 
whelmed  us,  and  it  is  doubly  sweet  to  begin  happi 
ness  again  on  this  spot." 

"Bruce,  my  darling,  I  can  remember  nothing  of 


WEDDING    MORN    AT   STONE    CORRAL.  289 

the  old  life  and  its  trials,  that  ended  at  our  grave 
on  Antelope  Butte ;  but  my  love  for  you — ah  !  that 
can  never  perish.  It  has  survived  even  the  horrors 
of  that  lonesome  tomb.  It  is  strange  we  only  rec 
ognized  each  other  at  that  empty  grave;  but  I  had 
always  felt  such  a  longing  to  meet  some  one,  that 
now  I  know  it  was  the  spirit  within  me  crying 
dumbly  for  you ;  and  oh  !  the  unutterable  content 
when  at  length  I  met  you,  and  the  joy  of  only  being 
with  you  now, — it  is  more  than  Eden  !" 

"Sweet  Ivarene,  do  you  ever  ponder  on  what 
eternity  means  for  us,  now  we  have  its  secret? — a 
limitless  succession  of  life  in  all  its  phases;  that  the 
grave  is  only  the  door  to  life  again,  when  we  can 
choose  another  birth — passing  through  all  the 
freshening  scenes  of  infancy  and  youth ;  growing 
up  again  as  boy  and  girl ;  seeking  each  other  out 
for  another  union  like  this,  where  we  shall  always 
recognize  each  other,  but  forget  the  old  life, — it  is 
this  which  gives  hope  and  zest  to  this  happy  day  ; 
for  we  know  that  we  shall  really  never  be  sep 
arated." 

"  We  will  pass  a  happy  life  together,  my  love ; 
and  from  out  our  abundance  we  can  sweeten  the 
lives  of  many  others  who  have  not  been  blessed 
with  great  riches,"  he  continued,  in  a  tender 
tone. 

"  Yes,  dear  Bruce,  and  the  treasure  of  Monte- 
lurna  should  be  dedicated  to  charity  alone,  for  we 
have  enough  without  it,"  she  replied  ;  then,  point 
ing  to  a  newly-sodded  grave  at  the  foot  of  the 

25 


290  "  WE    LIVE   AGAIN  !" 

lawn — a  mound  that  was  marked  by  a  marble  slab 
on  which  only  was  engraved, 

"BRUCE  AND  IVARENE," 

she  continued,  with  a  smile  of  ineffable  peace  on  her 
beaming  face :  "  That  is  for  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
dear  Bruce ;  but  we  know  that  we  are  they,  only  mas 
querading  under  the  names  of  Mora  and  Clifford." 
At  that  moment  Maud,  Ralph,  Hugh,  and  Grace 
came  on  to  the  terrace  above,  and  Hugh,  in  a  voice 
husky  with  emotion,  said  : — 

"  Come,  Mora  and  Clifford,  the  minister  waits." 
Tarrying  a  moment,  while  the  others  moved  on 
along  the  terrace,  the  happy  pair  stood  gazing  out 
over  the  tranquil  valley,  then,  drawing  aside  her 
veil,  which  trailed  liked  a  mist  down  over  her  robe 
of  glistening  satin,  white  as  a  snow-drift,  she  raised 
a  radiant  face  to  his,  and  said : — 

"  My  Bruce,  we  live  again — we  live  again !" 
Stooping,  while  their  lips  met,  he  murmured: — 
"  Yes,  Ivarene,  dear  bride,  and  this— oh  !  this  is 
heaven  !" 

A  moment  more,  and  they  had  disappeared  within 
the  flower-wreathed  doorway. 


THE     END. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
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LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-50?n-9,'70(N9877s8)458 — A-31/5,6 


N9  758589 


PS3505 

Carteret,  J.D.          A7932 
A  fortune  hunter.      F6 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


